


In My Cold Arms

by alby_mangroves, coldwinterrose, maichan



Series: blessed be the boys time can't capture [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (Though none actually occurred), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Art, Blow Jobs, Brief suicide ideation, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Cats, Depression, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Illustrated, Implied Possible Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Knitting, M/M, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Post-Avengers (2012), Recovery, Reunions, Smut, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-20 21:52:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16146287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alby_mangroves/pseuds/alby_mangroves, https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldwinterrose/pseuds/coldwinterrose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/maichan/pseuds/maichan
Summary: After James’ rescue in 1991, he felt like he’d built a pretty good, if slightly lonely, life for himself. He had a beautiful cabin in the woods, his cats for company, and his woodworking and knitting to keep him busy. One day though, he gets a phone call that could change everything.When Steve woke to an unexpected and shocking future, he was at a loss for what to do with himself. There were no more wars to fight, and no home to go back to. He struggled to figure out who he is in this new world; until he finds that maybe he didn’t lose as much as he first thought.





	1. Prologue: James

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James’ world is turned upside down, again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Welcome to my fic submission for the [2018 Captain America Big Bang!](https://cabigbang.tumblr.com/) I'm so excited to share this fic with everyone, its something I've wanted to write for _years_ , but for one reason or another I haven't really been able to until now. 
> 
> Honestly, this fic probably still wouldn't have happened, or been nearly as good, without the fantastic people who have helped it come to life. First and foremost, I want to thank my two _amazing_ artists, alby_mangroves, who you can find on tumblr [here](https://artgroves.tumblr.com), and maichan, who you can find on tumblr [here](https://maichan-art.tumblr.com). Their suggestions helped shape this fic and made it so much better than it would have been without them, and the art they made for it is awe-inspiring. Thank you both for making this a fantastic experience.
> 
> Also a huge, _huge_ thank you to my beta, Pineau_noir who you can find on ao3 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineau_noir) (and seriously, check out her CapBB fic, featuring art also by Alby, it's so freaking cute and fluffy). Without your comma wrangling and your insightful suggestions and keen eye for catching all of my mistakes this fic would be a disaster, so thank you.
> 
> Finally, thanks to everyone in the CabBB Slack, you guys have made this experience so fun!
> 
> I'll be posting two chapters a day until October 9th, so keep a look out!
> 
> And now, on to the fic!

The way James figured it, there were only so many life-changing, world-shifting events that could happen to one person. So far in his life, he’d had two. First was when Steve rescued him from an exploding building, showing up looking completely different from the tiny little bundle of skin and bones he’d grown up loving. Then there was when he’d been a brainwashed assassin working for his worst enemies, sent to kill one of his dearest friends. But instead of dying, she delivered him to his salvation and brought down the organization that had held him captive for far too long.

Thing was though, the universe apparently had a sense of humor. Or it seemed to have it out for him. Either way, when he woke up that morning, he hadn’t expected to have his world turned upside down yet again. The plan for the day was to finish carving the details into the giant oak table he’d been commissioned to make, then maybe go into town to run a couple errands if he felt up to being around people.

He’d been so focused on getting the delicate pattern just right that he almost didn’t notice his phone ring. If it had been the phone he used for work it would have gone unnoticed altogether. But this was the phone only two people had the number to, and neither of them would call if it wasn’t absolutely important.

He dropped his tools and fished the phone out of his pocket to look at the name on the display: Peggy, then.

He tapped the answer button and brought the phone to his ear. “Hello, Pegs.”

“James, oh darling, you won’t believe what’s happened.”

“Peggy? What’s wrong, is everything okay?”

“It’s more than okay. They found the plane, James. They found Steve.”

James closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew this day would come eventually; that they would find the plane that had become Steve’s final resting place. If he was honest he was relieved that Steve would finally be away from that horrible, cold place. He’d finally be brought home and have the burial he deserved. No more empty grave bearing Steve’s name.

“When do they plan to put him to rest?” He was proud he managed to keep his voice as steady as he did.

“That’s the thing, James, he’s alive. _Steve is alive._ ”

_No. No, no, no, no, no._

“James? This is good news. Steve didn’t die. You get another chance—.”

“No. Don’t tell him I’m alive, Peg. Don’t tell him where I am.”

“James? I— I don’t understand.”

“Please, just don’t,” James managed to get out before he hung up the phone and it slipped out of numb fingers.

He’d had twenty years to come to terms with the fact he’d done terrible things during his time with Hydra. He’d made his peace, he was okay with it. But a big part of _why_ he was okay with it was because Steve died before he saw the monster James had become. He died thinking James was a good man.

That was what kept James going after being rescued him from Hydra’s grasp. Only Steve suddenly wasn’t dead anymore. No, Steve managed to do the impossible and survive. He really shouldn’t be surprised, Steve always had been too stubborn for his own good.

There was one thing James knew for certain: Steve could never know, about any of it. It was better this way even though it would kill him to stay away from the man he’d loved more than life itself. He’d do it though. Steve deserved the best and James was so damaged there were some days he wasn’t sure he counted as a person anymore.

So, for once in his life, he would do the right thing, no matter how much it hurt.


	2. Chapter 1: Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve wakes to a strange new world and struggles to adjust.

Steve’s impression of the future so far was that it was both exactly like those pulp sci-fi novels Bucky used to read in his down time yet at the same time nothing like them. He still wasn’t completely sure all of this wasn’t some hallucination brought on by the icy chill of the Arctic waters. There were aliens and flying aircraft carriers, but no living on the moon, or flying cars, or even robots. Unless you happen to live in Stark Tower, that was. Steve had been assured that the Tower was futuristic even for the future, though, so he wasn’t exactly sure that counted.

After the fight with the aliens, Tony offered everyone a floor in his recently built tower. Some, like Clint and Natasha, passed. Thor accepted, but also said he would be spending most of his time on Asgard, so it would be more of a place for him to go when he was on Earth. The only two to actually move in were Bruce and Steve. Bruce because he was lured in by the state-of-the-art labs Tony offered and Steve because it was better than the place SHIELD currently had him set up at.

It was like they were trying to recreate what they thought the 1940’s looked like, only they missed the mark big time. He got the feeling it was done with the best of intentions, but all it really did was remind him of what he could never go back to.

For as confusing and sometimes off putting as Tony’s tech could be, it was a vast improvement to sitting in the faux 40’s. At least this wasn’t vaguely insulting on top of being confusing. People these days didn’t seem to know what it was really like to live back then.

The first few weeks went by as well as could be expected. Steve pretty much stuck to the Tower when he wasn’t out helping with the clean up effort, which took up the bulk of his time. It was something he did as discreetly as possible, not wanting any recognition or praise for doing something that any decent person would do.

On this day, though, it was thundering outside, so out of concern for the safety of the crews clean up was halted for that day.

Left without anything to do, Steve took to wandering around the tower. He figured he might as well get to know the space he would be living in until he decided where it was he wanted to go.

Despite what Steve had been told by Fury and SHIELD, Tony seemed to expect the Avengers were going to be a permanent team. He’d set up a good portion of his new tower as a sort of base of operations for the group. Besides the floors that were dedicated as living spaces for each of the team, there was also a private common area, as well as the floor Steve was currently in: a gym. Exercise machines, a rock wall that covered an entire wall, and oddly enough a boxing ring took up the space, as well as some things Steve didn’t recognize. There were even a couple punching bags, which Steve was tempted to have a go at. The thought of the clean up stopped him though.

As he wandered the various halls and floors, he thought back to how he even got here in the first place. The shock of waking up in a completely unfamiliar room, surrounded by strange, beeping machines was something he would never forget. Then being hit with the realization of how much time had passed when Peggy came into the hospital room, escorted by Director Fury… he tried to not think about it. It was still a raw, painful wound that he wasn’t sure would heal, no matter how much more time passed.

Eventually he ended up on the rooftop. Despite the clouds in the sky, the rain had let up, and while there was still the threat of lightning, it didn’t bother Steve. It wasn’t like lightning would do much to him.

But a little bit of lightning was worth it since the roof held a beautiful garden, unlike anything Steve had ever seen. He went to take a step out to explore more when he was interrupted.

“Captain Rogers,” the voice of the electronic butler, JARVIS, called out. “Sir would request that you join him in his lab. I can take you straight to it if you head to the elevator.”

“O-okay, sure.” He wasn’t sure why Tony would want to talk to him, but he shrugged and walked to the elevator JARVIS had open and waiting for him.

 

* * *

 

Tony’s lab was exactly what he expected it to be. A mess of tools and parts, and on one wall stood various versions of the Iron Man armor.

Tony himself was bent over what looked like one of the arms of an Iron Man suit when JARVIS called out “Sir, Captain Rogers is here, as requested.”

“Thanks. I’ll be with you in a sec, Cap, just let… me… finish…. Ah, there we go,” Tony exclaimed as he threw the screwdriver in his hand down. “Steve! Come pull up a chair! Or stool, whatever. Find a place to sit.”

“Tony?” Steve sat on the chair nearest to him. “Is there anything you need?”

“Not need, no. I do have a question for you. When do you plan to stop moping?”

“Moping?”

“Yes, moping. You’ve been moping since you moved in here. Probably before too, if I had to guess. Don’t try to deny it either. When you aren’t moping here, you’re moping out in the city.”

“I’ve been helping with clean up, not moping.”

“No, that’s still moping. It’s a sadness errand; it counts as moping.”

Steve sighed, already tired with this entire conversation. “Then what should I be doing with my time, Tony?”

“Anything you want! You have all the time in the world _and_ you have money, you should be out celebrating being alive!”

Steve took a breath, not wanting to snap or say something rude. Tony was only saying this out of concern after all. “I’m perfectly fine, Tony. I don’t want to celebrate.”

Tony looked slightly abashed. “Okay, celebrate might not have been the right word. Getting to know your new surroundings, maybe? I guess what I’m trying to say is, what you’ve been doing, it’s not healthy. I wasn’t going to say anything, but going out on the roof during a lightning storm, Steve? Even you know better than that, I’m sure.”

“It wasn’t raining.”

“No, but there is still lightning. Look, why don’t you take a vacation. Have you ever even been on a vacation? Is that a thing you did in ye olden days?”

Steve clenched his jaw to keep from lashing out. “Yes, Tony. I’ve taken a vacation before.” He stopped to think about it for a second. Maybe Tony did have a point. He hadn’t exactly been feeling like himself since he woke up, but he attributed it to the shock of everything that happened to him. “...You might have a point,” he conceded. “A vacation doesn’t sound like the worst idea.”

“Perfect! Name the place, I’ll have JARVIS get it all set up for you. You know what’s great this time of year? Tahiti. Or any tropical island, really.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I think I have an idea of where I want to go.”

“Well, if you need anything, just ask and I’ll get it for you. Or have JARVIS get for you. You know what I mean.”

“Thanks, Tony. But I think I’ll be fine.”

“Really, Cap, I am worried about you. If you need someone… okay I might not be the best person to talk to, but there are people. Professionals, even. I know that wasn’t really a thing back in your day, but it is now. Couldn’t hurt, is all I’m saying.”

Steve just nodded and walked out of the lab. He knew Tony was coming from a good place, but the last thing he needed was to cry to some stranger about his problems. He could handle it himself; he just needed time, that’s all.

 

* * *

 

In theory, getting out of New York should have been a good idea. Taking in new sights, having new experiences, it should have shaken him from the emotional fugue he’d been in.

Instead all it seemed to do was make it worse. Every new sight and experience just reminded him that Bucky wasn’t here to experience it with him.

This whole trip had been Bucky’s idea in the first place. He’d talked about it during the war; about how once they got home they’d travel the US, just the two of them, to be able to see the places they were actually fighting for. It was something that had gotten Bucky, and Steve if he was being honest, through some of the toughest parts of the war.

It was stupid to even be going on this trip, but he thought doing it in Bucky’s honor would help ease the guilt of surviving. It was what Bucky would have wanted: for Steve to keep living, not to waste his second chance at life. Though Steve doubted what he was doing on this trip counted as _living_ so much as it did surviving. He’d all but given up shaving, letting himself try to grow a beard for the first time in his life. He’d tried to claim it was to keep from being recognized, but mostly he just couldn’t stand to look at himself in the mirror. His hair was growing out too, though it wasn’t too unmanageable as of yet.

As hard as it was he wanted to try to keep going, which was what led him to his latest stop, the Grand Canyon. This was another idea of Bucky’s, but this one predated the war. He’d first thought of it when they were kids, and Bucky had done a book report about the canyon. Something about it sparked young Bucky’s imagination and for a month after it was all he talked about.

When they got older, it became something he’d whisper about when they were lying in bed together. _Just think of it Stevie_ , he’d say. _We could camp out and just lay under the stars. No one would be around and if anyone was it would be too dark to see, so we could hold each other, keep each other warm in case it gets too cold._

That had been a fantasy Bucky liked to revisit often. Sometimes, as he was kissing Steve, he’d talk about how they’d do more than sleep, how intense it would be, having nothing but the sky overhead, how quiet they’d have to be. That was always Steve’s favorite part.

When he’d arrived, it was nearing nightfall. The park was still open, but there wouldn’t be anyone around, which suited Steve just fine. The less people around, the better. Under the best of circumstances Steve wasn’t always a fan of being around people, and this probably wouldn’t be the best of circumstances.

 

* * *

 

If the canyon at sunset was beautiful, seeing it at night was breathtaking. It was more beautiful than his wildest imagination or Bucky’s most vivid descriptions.

It made him feel nothing.

He’d expected to feel at least some sadness, or anger that Bucky couldn’t be with him, but all he felt was a void. One of the most awe inspiring sights in the world and Steve couldn’t summon up one single emotion.

All he could do was stare into the seemingly never-ending darkness of the canyon below him. The infinite blackness gave Steve a sense of peace he’d only felt once before this, when he pointed the Valkyrie down into the cold, deep ocean.

All he needed to do was take a couple steps, and Steve would be enveloped into the peace of the blackness before him. It wasn’t like there would be anyone who would really miss him if he didn’t return to New York. He had no family, no friends. No one. Sure people might miss Captain America, but Steve Rogers? Not so much.

Just a few steps and it could all be over.

But… that wasn’t exactly true, was it?

He’d tried to do the very same thing once before, and yet, here he stood. The serum, which once upon a time he’d been so grateful for, he now cursed. Thanks to the serum he could survive even the most fatal of injuries.

Injuries including those that would be suffered by dropping to the canyon below.

All he would end up doing is causing himself pain, and creating a mess for some poor park worker to clean up. Possibly traumatize some tourists.

So, for that reason, he took a deep breath and walked away, back to his motorcycle.

_Sorry Bucky. I’m so sorry._

 

  
_Illustration by[artgroves](http://artgroves.tumblr.com/)_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first of the three pieces that have been created for this fic! The ever talented and lovely Alby created this one, and it was the first piece I saw, and let me tell you, I was stunned by how perfect it was. This scene, Steve at the Grand Canyon, was what set this fic in motion for me, so seeing it come to life so beautifully was beyond my wildest dreams.
> 
> The amount of love I've already received for this fic has been amazing. Thank you to everyone, it means so much.


	3. Chapter 2: James

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James has a visitor and takes some time to relax.

The first thing James registered was a tickling sensation near his face. 

“We’ve talked about this, no sleeping on my pillow,” he mumbled as he buried his face in deeper into said pillow. 

All he got in response was a purr and the source of the tickling sensation snuggling closer to him.

James smiled slightly before giving up on trying to get back to sleep. Once he was up, that was it. He rolled over and lifted his face to glance at the clock on the bedside table. 

“Six in the morning? Ugh. It’s too early,” he said as his head plopped back on the pillow, which disturbed the pillow’s other occupant with a tiny meow.

“Sorry, sorry, come here baby,” he cooed at the little orange tabby as he reached his right hand over to give them a little scratch behind their ears. He always made sure to use his right hand; he didn’t like the thought of accidentally hurting any of the cats by using his left.

Eventually the urge to use the restroom overpowered his desire to stay in bed and be lazy, so with a sigh he got up to face the day.

It wasn’t like he had much planned for the day. For once he decided he was going to give himself a day off. Normally he didn’t, but lately he’d been working almost every waking moment. It was something he’d only done once before, and that was when he first came here, when he worked to get the cabin fixed up. 

He tried not to think about the reason for his nonstop work schedule. That way lay nothing but pain.

Today, all James wanted to think about was the new stew recipe he’d been meaning to try, and the books that have been waiting for him to read. He’d just recently started watching Game of Thrones, and he’d heard about the book series. He was dying to finally sit down and read them.

Shortly after breakfast, as he finished setting the slow cooker up for dinner later that night, a knock came from the front door. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, since he hadn’t been expecting anyone and no one had tripped any of his silent alarms. He grabbed a knife just to be safe and went over to look at the security camera monitor of his front door.

He let out a small sigh of relief when he saw Natasha standing on the porch, only for the relief to be replaced with worry since she didn’t typically have a habit of popping by unannounced for a visit.

He pocketed the knife as he went over to answer the door. “Well, this is unexpected,” James greeted her as he motioned to let her in.

“Sorry I didn’t call ahead; I wasn’t thinking. I just needed to get away for a few days,” Natasha answered back as she stopped to take off her hiking boots and sat them, as well as a small duffle bag, by the front door.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. No. I… this is probably a stupid question to ask you, of all people, but have you ever had your entire world view flipped upside down?”

“What happened?”

“Aliens.”

James blinked. Surely he heard that wrong. “Aliens.”

“Aliens. Apparently not a myth or a government conspiracy.”

“Huh. What happened with the aliens?”

Natasha sighed as she settled in on one of the couches, where one of the cats jumped up and joined her. This one was all black and always loved when Natasha visited. She gave a small smile as she reached down to stroke down their back. “Well, one of them brought an army of another sort of alien to attack Manhattan, while his brother helped us stop the invasion and dragged him back home.”

“Aliens attacked New York?” Fear gripped him as the thought of the one thing he was trying his very hardest to not think about came to his mind. If anything happened….

“They did. But thanks to yours truly, Clint, a green rage monster, Tony Stark, an alien god, and someone who might be older than you, if you can believe it, we managed to fight them off.”

“That’s… wow. And your team? They all made it?”

“Somehow, yes.”

Relief flooded him. He knew who she was alluding to when she mentioned the man older than him. Of course he would jump back into the fight as soon as possible. But another detail caught his attention.

“Wait, alien _god_?”

“Yep. Thor.”

“Thor. As in Norse mythology Thor?”

“The very same. Clint said something about them having visited Earth a millennia or so ago; that’s where the myths came from.”

“How would Clint know?”

“He was in New Mexico where Thor first arrived. According to him that was an interesting few days.”

“Why do I feel like I’ve missed a lot?”

“Oh James, you have no idea.”

 

* * *

 

Apparently, he _had_ missed a lot. 

Besides Clint and… _him_ , the rest of Natasha’s team was almost as interesting and colorful as Thor.

“So, this guy tried to recreate the super soldier serum and as a result turned himself into a green rage monster? Why was this guy even messing with something like that? Did he think the Red Skull was a myth or something?”

“I didn’t ask him the specifics, but he was funded by the U.S. military, just to give you an idea.”

James let out a sound of disgust at that. _Of course_. He wished he were more surprised, but he really wasn’t.

“I know. I’m sure you’ll love this even more, they tried again when he failed, to the same results.”

“These military types never do learn, do they?”

“They really don’t. It’s honestly almost depressing.”

“And you mentioned something about Stark?”

“Tony Stark, yeah.”

“Didn’t you say he wasn’t cut out for this type of thing?”

James remembered it well. Natasha had come to his cabin after having gone undercover at Stark Industries for SHIELD. Normally she was unflappable, nothing really seem to faze her, but Stark seemed to get under her skin. 

James tried not to think about Tony Stark. He still carried a lot of guilt for murdering Howard and his wife, and while he knew it wasn’t his fault, it still didn’t change the fact that he did it. Even worse, that act was the start of his freedom from the monsters who’d kept him imprisoned. It was something he would always be grateful to Peggy for; saving him that night and not just shooting him on sight, though she really should have. Instead she took him to a safe place, then hunted Hydra down. Once he’d recovered enough to remember who he was, and who Peggy was, he wasn’t exactly surprised it went down the way it did. Hydra had been arrogant, sending him after someone he’d considered one of his best friends from the war and not expecting what happened to happen. 

“I did,” Natasha said, “and I still think he’s not cut out for it. But… under the circumstances he did better than I expected.”

“High praise, coming from you.”

She shrugged. “A lot of that was down to the leadership of Captain America. He wasn’t what I expected. I assumed he would uptight and rigid, a military man. But,” she paused, “he surprised me.”

“Now that is rare, someone surprising you,” James said, though he wasn’t exactly shocked. It was something he remembered well, people underestimating St… _him_ when they were kids, and not expecting it when he blew those expectations out of the water. 

“I won’t make the mistake of underestimating him again, that’s for sure.”

“How’s Clint doing?” James asked, wanting desperately to get away from the current topic of conversation, but not wanting to sound too eager. He didn’t want to pique her interest.

The raised eyebrow she gave him said he wasn’t totally successful, but she let the topic change without any fuss. “Well, if anyone knows what it’s like to have your autonomy taken away, it’s the two of us, so you probably have an idea how he’s doing.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t with him, given what he’s been through.”

Natasha just shook her head. “I offered, but he just wanted to see Laura.”

“You didn’t go with him though.”

“He’s with his family, I’m with mine.” 

James smiled, “Good, I’m glad.”

“Okay, enough of this mushy crap, I’m here, might as well put me to work.”

“Well, Natasha, I hate to break it to you, but you came on the worst day. Today is my day off.”

“You? A day off? Maybe it really is the end days.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. I take days off.”

“Maybe, but it’s the first time I’ve seen it. So, what did you plan to do today?”

“Read Game of Thrones,” he said lifting his tablet up. “But now you’re here, I don’t mind a change of plans.”

“Hmm… have you ever seen Lord of the Rings?”

“Nope.”

Natasha smiled, “Oh, you are in for a treat.”

 

* * *

 

It turned out, James _had_ heard of it, but in a roundabout sort of way.

“Hey, I know that character! That’s Bilbo! But... where are the Dwarves?” He asked as he paused the movie in confusion.

“You’re thinking of The Hobbit. This is the sequel to that.”

“They made a sequel?!”

“You know, I forget how old you are sometimes. They did, a trilogy in fact. These movies are based on those books. After we’re done watching you should read them.”

James nodded. He’d loved The Hobbit when it came out. He vaguely remembered reading it to Rebecca at night before bed, and to…. Either way, he’d loved that book a lot. “Is there a movie for The Hobbit, too?”

“Not yet, but it’s supposed to be coming out at the end of the year.”

James’ eyes widened. “Wait, seriously?”

Natasha pulled out her phone and tapped the screen a few times, then turned the phone so he could see.

“Holy shit, that’s amazing.” Then he remembered Becca, who would have loved it even more than him, wasn’t around to see it and the feeling of excitement died quickly.

Natasha, who could read him better than anyone else, noticed. “We don’t have to watch this if you don’t want to.”

James shook his head. “No, no I want to. Sorry for bringing the mood down.

“Not your fault. Now let’s get these movies started, they’re three to four hours long.”

“Wait, each?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Well, I guess we have something to watch for the next couple days.”

“If you think you can stop after one.”

“Okay, now I’m worried.”

“Just press play, James.”

And three hours later, as the credits played, James sat there with tears in his eyes. “Please tell me the Hobbits are going to be okay, Natasha. I need the Hobbits to be okay.”

“Well… you can wait until tomorrow to find out.”

“Fuck that, put the next one on.”

She just smirked as she cued up The Two Towers, which thankfully started right where the first one left off. It even included another familiar character.

“They brought _Gollum_ back?! Of all the characters?”

“Shh, just watch.”

“But—”

“Just. Watch.”

Eight hours and two movies later, with just an interruption for dinner, and honestly thank god for slow cookers, James and Natasha watched as Frodo and Bilbo sailed into the Undying Lands with the Elves. Both would deny it, but there were tears shed all around.

“I… wow. That was…. I have no words.”

“There’s a reason these are considered modern day classics,” Natasha nodded, wiping at her eyes.

“I need to read the books.”

“Now?”

James glanced at the clock, which read one in the morning. “Maybe not now.”

“Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?”

James shook his head. “Nothing that can’t be done after you leave. Why?”

She shrugged. “Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t intruding on your time since I came here unannounced and all that.”

“Natasha. You’re family. You being here is never going to be an intrusion.”

She smiled, a true and open smile that only happened once in a blue moon. “Thank you, James.”

“I do need help getting the guest room set up though, it hasn’t been used since the last time you were here.”

“Are the sheets in the same place?”

“Yep. Also, you might want to close the door unless you want to share the bed with a cat or two. It’s a new habit they’ve picked up.”

“I don’t mind,” she said as she scratched behind the ear of the black one, who’d spent a good portion of the day either on her lap or lying near her.

“Yeah, you say that now, just wait until one wants to make your face into a pillow.”

Natasha looked down at the cat and raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t do that, would you?”

The black cat looked up and blinked.

“See, we’ve come to an understanding.”

James just shook his head. “Well, good luck with that. How long are you planning to stay?”

Natasha shrugged. “A few days if that’s okay?”

He nodded. “It’s fine, just be prepared for a long day tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it.”

 

* * *

 

As much as James wished it would, sleep would not come that night. He’d managed to hide it, but hearing Natasha’s story about the attack on Manhattan shook him. 

Stepping out to his bedroom balcony he hoped to escape the thoughts running around in his head, but instead they just followed him.

He… _Steve,_ he had to get used to saying the name, even if only in his head, Steve could have gotten seriously hurt. Or worse, he could have died again.

Steve could have died and James wouldn’t have known until it was too late to actually do anything about it. 

But it wasn’t like he _could_ have done much of anything about it either way. Being back in the field was something James knew he was not capable of. There was too great a risk of falling back into the headspace of the Winter Soldier and that was something James never wanted to have happen again.

There was also the fact that he didn’t think he could face Steve, not after all of the things he’d done. He’d committed so many heinous acts for the same people Steve died trying to stop. Even though James knew Steve would forgive him in an instant, he didn’t feel worthy of that forgiveness. No matter what anyone said, he could have tried harder fought the brainwashing. He should have tried to do something, _anything_ , to stop them. He should have tried harder to kill himself when it was clear they were starting to succeed.

No, he was tainted. He wasn’t worthy of Steve anymore. 

Steve would be fine without him either way. Steve was always the stronger of the two of them; he would figure this new world out and find his place. 

James took a deep breath and tried his best to let go of this train of thought, it would bring nothing but heartache in the end. 

After who knew how long just standing and breathing in the warm summer air, he decided to try to get some more sleep. He had a long list of things that needed to get done and he would need to be at his best if he wanted to keep up with Natasha.

 

* * *

 

Morning came way too soon, in James’ opinion, as his alarm startled him awake. Typically he didn’t like to wake before before eight, but he was starting to run low on some supplies, which meant a trip into town. With Natasha around he wanted to take advantage of the second pair of hands to stock up on a few things. Plus it would be hilarious to see her interact with some of the more colorful folk.

After knocking on her door to wake her, he went downstairs to start his day. As usual, he was met by an entire army of cats vying for attention and, more importantly in their minds, food. 

He hadn’t intended to collect so many cats, but he always did have a soft heart for small, helpless things, and soon enough one stray became two, two became three, until he had more cats than he knew what to do with some days. But they all made it work. They gave him companionship and he gave them a safe place to sleep, as well as all the fresh food and water they could ever want. 

Once they were all happy and eating, he set to preparing food for Natasha and himself. He wasn’t exactly a gourmet chef, but he could make a half decent breakfast. 

Natasha, with perfect timing, joined him downstairs just as the coffee finished brewing. She grabbed herself a cup and sat on the counter next to the stove. “So, what’s the plan? Are we going to be hacking away at some logs?”

James snorted. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m running low on some things, so today I’m taking a trip into town. You’re welcome to stay here or join me, whatever you feel up to.”

“As nice as it would be to hang out with your cats all day, I did come here to see you.”

James smiled at that as he flipped a pancake. “In that case, we’ll leave as soon as we’re done with breakfast?”

Natasha nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

The rest of the meal passed in a companionable silence, only disturbed by cats meowing for some bacon or trying to jump up on the table or a lap for attention. 

Soon enough they were in the truck making the the three hour drive to the town where James would be stocking back up on supplies. There were closer towns, but James like to switch up where he went to resupply, just in case anyone was tracking him or trying to keep tabs on his activities. 

“So what exactly do we need to get?” Natasha asked as she started to play with the dial on the radio to find something good to listen to.

“Well I’m low on cat food, so that, as well as actual food. Oh, and I need some more varnish.”

“That doesn’t sound like much.”

“You haven’t seen me do a food run before; it’s more than you think it is. Takes a lot to maintain this figure after all.”

She just rolled her eyes as she slapped him on the shoulder. He grinned back in reply. As much as he might appreciate the peace and quiet of his cabin, he did miss being around friends like this.

He wasn’t lying though. His metabolism ran much faster than a typical male of his age. If he didn’t eat enough, he would start to get jittery and cranky, so he made sure to try and pack as many calories into his diet as he could. 

As he seemed to be doing a lot these past few weeks, Steve crept into his thoughts again. He wondered if Steve had similar issues trying to keep himself fed, or if his serum was better in that aspect as well. If Steve did have those problems… no. He would not go down that path. It wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it anyway.

The best thing about Natasha was that she seemed to understand his moods better than anyone he’d met since his time with Hydra. So, instead of trying to fill the rest of the drive with small talk, they settled into a companionable silence until they arrived at their destination.

Their first stop was the hardware store for the varnish, as well as few other small things he needed for various projects he’d been commissioned for.

Their second stop made Natasha’s eyebrows raise.

“James? Why are we stopping into a craft store?”

“I broke one of my knitting needles and I need a new set.”

“Wait, since when do you knit?”

James shrugged. “Since about a year ago. I got bored,” was all he was willing to say about it. He wasn’t going to mention that he’d remembered his mom knitting blankets and scarves when he was a child, and he wanted to try to reconnect with some small part of his childhood, far away though it may be.

“How does that even work, with the arm and all?”

As he compared two different brands, trying to figure out which would be more sturdy he said, “Well, it did take a little getting used to, but once I figured it out, it wasn’t too difficult. This is the first set of needles I’ve broken.”

“I hope you know, now that I know this, I’m going to want you to make me something.”

James smiled. “I figured. I might or might not have already made you something, that I may have planned to send you for your birthday.”

Her eyes lit up in surprise. “Oh? What did you make me?”

“What and ruin the surprise?” He smirked as he walked to the cash register, replacement needles in hand.

He was even more grateful for Natasha’s help at their last stop of the day. Going grocery shopping had always been a huge pain; trying to fit as much as he could into one cart so he could get away with as few trips away from the cabin as possible.

Plus seeing her eyes widen in disbelief as he grabbed the fourth container of protein powder might have been slightly amusing to him.

“How can you stand that stuff?” she asked, staring at the containers as if they’d committed some personal slight against her.

“It’s convenient,” he shrugged. “I really wasn’t joking about it taking a lot of food to keep me going. This stuff makes it a lot easier, and you learn how to make smoothies that don’t taste too bad.” It may have taken a lot of experimentation, but he had figured it out eventually.

She shook her head as they walked to the next aisle. “I was thinking of introducing you to my teammate who’s like you, but I’m afraid if I did the two of you would eat an entire city’s food stores within a week.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad,” he said, ignoring the reference to Steve. That meeting would never happen if he had anything to say about it.

“James. We’ve filled up an entire cart and we’ve been here ten minutes. And we’re still not done. Are we even going to be able to fit all of this stuff in the truck?”

He laughed. “Yes, we will.”

It might have been a tight fit, but they did, in fact, managed to fit it all.

 

* * *

 

Eventually duty called for Natasha and she had to report back to DC.

“Can’t you stay for another day or two?” 

She shook her head. “No, sorry. I may have taken this little vacation off the books as it is. If I stay away any longer Fury might think I deserted or something.”

“After all of that, I’m sure they won’t begrudge you a few weeks to yourself.”

“Oh, I know they won’t. Or Fury won’t, and he’s the only person whose opinion actually matters. I will miss you, James.”

“Well, don’t be a stranger. My door is always open to you, you know that. Oh, wait a second,” he said as he ran to grab the wrapped package that held the knitted scarf he’d made for her. “For you. I’d say don’t open it until your birthday, but I know you better than that.”

She smiled as she took the present. “You’re right,” she laughed. “Thank you, James.” Then she grabbed her bag and headed out the door.

James sighed, picked up Natasha’s black cat, who had also been at the door saying their goodbye to their favorite person, and turned back to the empty house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, it's not _all_ angst all the time! Even I'm not that evil. 
> 
> Thank you so much again to everyone who's left love for this fic, it means so much!


	4. Chapter 3: Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve settles into the 21st century and has a few reminders of the past.

After his cross-country roadtrip, going back to New York was the last thing Steve wanted. The city served only as a reminder of all he’d lost and could never get back. 

Instead, he decided to take Fury up on his offer of transferring to DC. It held the appeal of a fresh start in Steve’s mind. He would miss New York, but then again, he already did. He missed _his_ New York; it was an ache that he didn’t think would ever really go away. Which was exactly why going to DC was for the best.

Thus far the move had been a good choice, too. The overwhelming depression he’d felt while in New York seemed to ease a bit with the unfamiliar surroundings. Not to say it was totally gone, but it was at a level that he could tolerate. He took it as a good thing, that maybe he was getting better.

Another unexpected upside of moving was he was able to actually pick where he would live instead of being shifted from one place to another without any real input about any of it. Not that he wasn’t grateful to Tony, but an entire floor was way too much space for him, and the less said about the apartment SHIELD provided for him, the better.

In the end he settled on a decent sized apartment in Dupont Circle. It still felt way too big, especially since it was just him living there, but when he compared it to Stark Tower, it was much easier to adjust to the size.

What also seemed to help abate those dark feelings was being put to work on actual missions, and not just trying to feel useful by shifting rubble around. It was nothing as intense as what he did in the War or during the Battle of Manhattan, as the media had taken to calling it, but it was more than enough for Steve. He got to feel useful again, which was more than he ever felt in New York.

An added bonus was being able to work with Natasha, who was assigned to the same team as him. She’d disappeared shortly after the Chutari attack and hadn’t come back by the time he’d left on his trip, so he was glad he was able to get the chance to know her better now. Of all the people he’d fought alongside with that day in Manhattan, he felt like he worked best with her. There was something about her he couldn’t quite put his finger on, the way that she held herself in a fight, that struck him as almost familiar. Getting to work with her again only made that feeling stronger.

Even more surprising was the fact that she seemed to want to be friends outside of work. Part of him felt it was maybe something Fury asked her to do, but she wasn’t too pushy about it and he genuinely enjoyed her company, so he figured he could tolerate it.

After an especially tough training session, she invited him out for lunch. He’d been about to open his mouth to decline when she said, “Steve, I know you’re just going to go back to your apartment to eat alone in silence. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Steve sighed. He couldn’t say she was exactly wrong. “Okay, fine. Where did you have in mind.”

She gave him a thoughtful look. “How adventurous are you when it comes to food?”

“Why? Are you looking to shock me? Or trying to see what I can handle?”

She raised an eyebrow. “No, just curious about what you’ve tried. Food has gotten more exciting than it had been in your time, I’m sure.”

“I can’t say you’re wrong. All we could really do back in my day was boil everything. But I suppose I’d be willing to try something new. It’s not like it can hurt me after all.”

She smiled. “Perfect.”

 

* * *

 

She brought him to a fairly nondescript looking restaurant in a strip mall which didn’t give much of a hint of what was served here until he walked inside. The door opened and a wall of sweet and smoky spices greeted him. Natasha must have noticed the look on his face and smiled. “Smells good, right?”

“Very. What is this?”

“Indian. Figured I’d start you off on something adventurous, but that wouldn’t scare you off. Do you want to look at the menu, or do you trust me to order for you.”

He thought about it for a second. “You order for me.”

“You sure you want to do that?”

“Why? Is this some sort of a test?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” she said as she walked up to the counter and confidently ordered their meal in what he guessed was Hindi, but he couldn’t be totally sure. He made to pay for his half, but she just waved him off.

Once the food came out, they carried it to an empty booth and sat. Natasha separated the food between the two of them and gestured for him to start eating as she did the same.

He picked up a piece of flat looking bread and gave it a small taste, then, seeing Natasha do something similar, he dipped into the red looking sauce. Instead of the intense heat he’d been expecting, it was more of a smoky, mild heat. He looked up to see her smirking at his surprise.

“You really expected something spicy, didn’t you?

“Honestly? I kind of did. But this is good. What is it?”

“Curry, and the bread is called Naan. You should try the rice dish too.”

He smiled and picked up his fork to try it, also pleasantly surprised at the taste. 

While they ate, they talked. Well, more like Steve talked and Natasha asked questions. He tried to ask a few of his own, but she wasn’t very forthcoming with answers, which was fine. She was still friendly enough, and he got the feeling this was her trying. She didn’t seem like the type to open up easily. Steve understood. It wasn’t that he didn’t like talking, it was more that he felt no one would really relate, so he just kept quiet most of the time. 

Natasha, thankfully, kept away from questions about the past and focused more on the here and now. Safe topics like what sort of books or movies Steve had looked into, or his thoughts on the Internet.

“Okay, I have to ask, who picked your clothes?”

He looked down at what he was wearing. He was just wearing some slacks and a button down, nothing too unusual from his normal wardrobe. “Why, what’s wrong with them?”

“You look like you’re dressing your actual age, including the time spent in the ice.”

He shrugged. “It was what SHIELD provided me with.”

“And you never went shopping for yourself?”

“Why would I?”

“Oh, Rogers. Okay, that’s it, I’m taking you shopping. Not today, though, sadly, I have plans after this. Is tomorrow good for you?”

“Um… I think so?”

“Good. Tomorrow it is.”

Steve just nodded, slightly confused about what was wrong with what he was wearing, but letting it go for the moment. Maybe she would just forget about it.

Eventually they finished their food. “All right Rogers, it’s been fun, but I really do have to go. See you tomorrow?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, tomorrow.”

As he walked out of the restaurant, he took a deep breath. Part of the reason he’d even come to DC was to be close to Peggy, but he hadn’t really been able to bring himself to visit her in the few weeks he’d been there. He knew he was being a coward, but seeing her was a stark reminder of how much time had really passed. Enough was enough though, so he steeled himself and took out his phone to give her a call.

She picked up after a couple rings. “Hello?”

“Hey, Peggy.”

“Steve! How are you?”

“I’m fine. How are you?” God, he hated how stilted conversation felt with her. He used to be able to talk to her about anything without feeling awkward.

“I’m doing fine Steve, don’t worry about me.”

“Easy for you to say Peggy, but I always worry. I’m sorry I haven’t been by to see you.”

“No, don’t worry about it Steve. I can’t imagine how overwhelmed you must still be feeling. You should take all the time you need.”

“I was actually calling to see if it would be a good time to come by? I have the rest of the day free and I really do miss you, Peg.”

“My day is free and clear and even if it wasn’t, you’re welcome to come by anytime.”

“I’ll be there in a little bit then.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Steve smiled as the said their farewells and he disconnected the call. Despite everything, he really had missed Peggy, and he couldn’t wait to see her.

 

* * *

 

Steve knocked on the door and was greeted by a woman wearing colorful looking scrubs. “Oh! Captain Rogers! I wasn’t aware Ms. Carter was expecting you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck as he smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, this was sort of a last minute visit. I did talk to Peggy though, she said she was free?”

The woman frowned a little bit. “Oh. She didn’t mention it, but no worries, come on in. I’m sure she’ll be excited to see you.”

Steve wasn’t quite sure what that was all about, but he walk in anyway.

Peggy’s house was modest but beautiful; exactly what he would have expected from her. The walls were covered in photos, showing the many events that she’d shared with her friends and family. He was glad to see she had been able to live a full, happy life. No one deserved it more than her.

The caregiver, who introduced herself as Angelica, showed Steve to the sitting room, and told him she’d bring Peggy down in a moment.

He walked around the room, taking in the decor, when a photo on the fireplace mantle stopped him short. It was of him, but him before the serum, a candid shot that had been taken during boot camp. He hadn’t been aware this photo even existed, much less that Peggy had it framed and displayed like this. 

Before he could get too lost in thought over the fact that Peggy kept a photo of him on her mantleplace, Angelica came back in with Peggy.

“Steve? Oh this is a surprise! How good to see you!” 

He bent down to give her a hug. “Peggy, we talked on the phone not that long ago.”

“Did we? Oh dear, I’m sorry, it must have slipped my mind. Either way, I’m happy you came. I’ve missed you so much.”

Steve swallowed the worry he felt, Peggy had been one of the sharpest people he’d ever met, it wasn’t like her to forget anything. “I’ve missed you too, Peg.”

“Well, don’t just stand there, take a seat! We have so much to catch up on!”

Thankfully, the rest of the afternoon went by without any problems. Despite forgetting that he called, Peggy still seemed the same clever woman he remembered. They reminisced about the past and Peggy talked about her family, as well as the man she married. A little more surprising was the woman Peggy had been with after her husband died from an accident in the field.

“You would have loved Angie, Steve. She was so beautiful and full of life, a real firecracker.” Peggy sighed. “I miss them. But I’m glad I get to have you back, at least.”

“I wish I could have met them, Peg. They both sound wonderful.”

“Oh, but enough about me. You must tell me all about how you’re settling into DC!”

“Better than expected, if I’m being honest. I thought I would hate it here, but the change of scenery has been nice so far.”

Peggy raised an eyebrow. “Tell me, have you actually gone out and enjoyed any of that scenery?”

Steve looked down sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “A little? Mostly I’ve been busy getting established in SHIELD, I’m sure you remember what that’s like.”

“Oh, Steve, please tell me you haven’t just been working. Do you even have any friends?”

“One? Maybe? She’s a colleague at work.”

“Do you actually talk to this colleague _outside_ of work? Or do you just go home and mope all alone?”

“We’ve… gone out for lunch? Once? But I don’t mope.”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “I swear, you and James, two peas in a pod.”

He opened his mouth to ask what she meant by that, who _James_ was, but Angelica interrupted with a knock on the doorframe. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time for your medicine, Ms. Carter.”

Peggy frowned as she glanced at the clock. “Oh, so it is! Time really does fly, doesn’t it? This shouldn’t take long Steve. I’ll be back in a few moments.”

Steve shook his head. “No, don’t worry. I really should be going. It was great to see you though.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. “I’m sure.”

“All right, Well, don’t be a stranger, do you hear me? Now that you’re close by, I expect to see you more often.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Angelica handed Peggy her pills and after making sure she took all of them, escorted Steve to the door.

“I’m sorry about earlier. Ms. Carter’s memory hasn’t been the best lately.”

“Is she okay?”

Angelica pursed her lips. “I’m not sure how much I should really say, but let’s just say its been happening more frequently lately. Don’t worry too much, she has access to the best care money can buy. She’ll be okay.”

Steve nodded. “If she needs anything, I’m a phone call away.”

“I’ll make sure her family knows that.”

“Thank you.”

She smiled at him kindly as she shut the door.

As he walked back to his apartment, he his mind drifted to the dark place he thought he’d moved passed. He’d hoped seeing Peggy would help, would be a reminder he wasn’t totally alone, but instead all it did was bring a new heaviness to his heart. He recognized the memory loss she was showing, he’d seen it so many times in the older people who’d lived in his tenement building when he was a kid. They would get more and more forgetful, then it would start affecting how they acted. Not long after they would end up hurting themselves. It wouldn’t be long for them, after that.

Wasn’t this supposed to be the future? Weren’t they supposed to have a cure for everything? That was how everyone made it seem at least. They kept telling him that the illnesses of his youth were all but gone at this point, but it seemed not even the future could fix the ravages of old age, even in someone as strong as Peggy.

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately, Natasha wasn’t as forgetful as Steve had hoped. After the meetings with various SHIELD officials wrapped up she practically ambushed him, reminding him of their planned shopping trip.

“Must we? I really don’t see what’s wrong with my clothes.”

“Yes, we must. Trust me, it’ll be worth it. Also, your hair _and_ that beard.”

His hand reflexively reached for the top of his head. “What exactly is wrong with my hair?”

“It’s as dated as your clothes. You’re what? 25, 26? You look like you’re about to turn 60. You might try to hide it, Rogers, but you’re struggling. Now I’m not saying a new haircut and some clothes will fix all your problems, but it couldn’t hurt. Plus first rule of blending in, you have to look the part.”

“Blending in? What am I, a spy?”

“No, you are very much _not_ a spy. But you are trying to be incognito, right? This will help.”

He touched his hand to his face. “The beard should help with that though.”

“No Steve, that beard makes it look like you’re late for your job as a lumberjack. You may not stand out as Cap, but you still stand out. It needs to go.”

Steve sighed. “You’re not going to quit until I agree, will you?”

“Not really, no.”

“Fine. Lead the way.”

She smiled, and they headed to the parking garage to take her car.

“You know, you remind me of a friend of mine,” Steve said as he folded himself into her small car as best he could. “He was always nagging me to dress better, too.”

“All I’m hearing is you have a knack for finding great friends.”

“Maybe. Is that what we are?”

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”

“Huh. If this is how you act around your acquaintances, I hate to see how you treat your friends.”

“Who knows, maybe someday you’ll find out.”

Their first stop was to a barber, where Natasha told the guy what style to give Steve. The barber glanced at Steve to make sure he was okay with it, but Steve just shrugged. The more he thought about it, the more he felt Natasha might be right about needing a change.

He had to admit, walking out of the barber shop, she hadn’t done anything too drastic. Sure it was shorter and it was styled in that messy way men seemed to wear their hair these days, but it didn’t look all that bad. He did miss the beard though.

The more difficult part of the trip, however, was clothes shopping. He and Natasha had very different opinions on what constituted men’s fashion.

“Steve, trust me. Men do, in fact, wear jeans this tight.”

“Why though? I feel like I’ll rip them if I move too quickly!”

“Oh, it’s not that bad. How is this any different from your tac gear?”

“That is more flexible.”

“Okay, fine. Skinny jeans might not be your thing. But here, try this.” She handed him yet another pair of pants to try.

He had to admit, these weren’t as bad. Not as constricting as the “skinny” jeans, but still very slim. As he walked out of the dressing room, Natasha gave a low whistle. “Not bad, Rogers, not bad at all. Do these feel better?”

“I guess. I can move in them at least.”

“Perfect, we’ll take them,” she said as she went to grab a few more pairs in different colors. “Now go change back, we still have to get some tops. Oh, and shoes.”

“Hey, you never mentioned anything about shoes,” he said as he went back to change into his much more comfortable slacks and button down.

“It was implied.”

“Great. Can’t wait.” 

“That’s the spirit!” she replied, clearly missing the sarcasm. Or, knowing her, just ignoring it.

Shopping for shoes wasn’t nearly as bad as shopping for pants had been and Steve actually ended up liking several of the options they had. He never would have guessed shoes could be as comfortable as the pairs Natasha showed him ended up being. Some of her choices were a little odd though.

“Why do I need a pair of hiking boots?”

“Always good to be prepared for anything.”

“Yeah, but _hiking boots_?”

She just shrugged and handed the boots to the cashier along with the other pairs they’d both agreed on. “Consider them a gift, then.”

“Oookay, If you say so.” He’d long given up trying to fight Natasha on this, it was clear she was a woman on a mission.

As the walked out of the shoe store, she glanced at her phone. “Crap, something has come up. Looks like it’s your lucky day, Rogers. But tomorrow I’m coming over and I’m taking a look at your closet.”

“Isn’t tomorrow your day off?”

“Yes it is and it’s yours too. Unless you already have plans?” she asked, though the look on her face implied that she knew he didn’t

He sighed. “I don't. But are you sure you want to spend your day off doing this, of all things?”

Her eyes softened a little bit. “Look, I don’t know exactly what it’s like, going through what you’ve gone through, but I have gone through something a little similar and I had people to help me. Consider this my way of paying it forward.”

“Paying it forward?”

“It means when someone does something for you, instead of paying that person back, you do something for someone else. There’s a movie about it, I’ll have to show it to you sometime.”

“Oh, all right, why not. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Perfect,” she smiled a smile he hadn’t seen her give yet, and he suspected it might be something close to a real smile. “See you tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

Once Steve got home, he dropped the boxes and bags of stuff he’d gotten in the living room. He would deal with it later, he honestly didn’t have the energy to do much more than make a quick something for dinner and go to bed. If he could he would skip dinner, but he remembered all too well what it was like to go without food, both before and after the serum, and it was something he’d rather avoid if he could help it. 

He wasn’t even sure _why_ he felt so tired all of a sudden. The last time he remembered feeling like this was right after his mom died. But at least then it made sense. He’d had to plan her funeral, find the money to pay for that plus rent for the month, try to keep up with his job as a cartoonist for the local paper, all on top of a head cold that hadn’t really gone away all through that fall. 

Only he didn’t have those excuses anymore. Sure his job could be exhausting, but he had the serum now. Theoretically he was at the peak of human perfection. He shouldn’t be able to get tired, especially when he hadn’t done anything worth getting tired over.

Still tired he was, so after a quick meal of a protein shake and energy bars, he slipped out of his clothes and got into bed.

To add insult to injury though, once he got there he couldn’t actually get to sleep. He ended up lying there for hours, tossing and turning until finally his eyes managed to drift closed in the early hours of the morning.

He was glad the serum let him get by on a couple hours worth of sleep when he was startled awake at nine in the morning by the sound of his phone ringing on the nightstand.

He bolted up and grabbed the phone. “Rogers speaking.”

“Hello Captain Rogers, this is Dr. Waterman, calling from the Smithsonian. I was wondering if you have a moment to talk?”

He furrowed his brow, confused why the Smithsonian would be calling him of all people. “Sure, I have time.”

“Perfect. I’m calling in regards to some items we have in our possession that belong to you. We were wondering if we might deliver them to you to take a look at.”

“Wait. Items?”

“Yes. They were things that were donated after the last survivor of James Barnes’ immediate family passed away a few years ago.”

Steve closed his eyes at the mention of Becca’s passing. He’d known, of course, but it still stung to be reminded of it. 

“Right, of course. When can the items be delivered?”

“It’s my understanding you’re currently in DC, correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“That’s perfect, we can have a courier deliver them today, if you’re available.”

“Y-yes, I’m available.”

“Perfect. Also, while I have you on the phone. I was wondering if I might schedule a meeting with you in regards to the current exhibit we have? I was hoping we might have an interview so we can update any incorrect information.”

“Um… well,” Steve hesitated. He was aware of the exhibit, but he’d done his best to forget its existence. It was too awkward to think about. “I’ll have to get back to you about that.”

“I understand completely. Well, I hope to hear from you soon.”

“Right.” he said as the he disconnected the call.

True to Dr. Waterman’s word, an hour later a delivery man arrived with three medium sized boxes as well as a letter. He sat the boxes in the middle of his living room and stared. Three boxes that held all that was left of his life from before the serum and the war and the ice.

Ignoring the painful memories that were likely to be held in those boxes, he instead opened the letter. Inside was a note, stating that once he was done looking through everything, if there was anything he felt comfortable donating back to the Smithsonian, they would be more than happy to take it. Steve stared at the letter in disbelief, but then again the Smithsonian didn’t have to give him his stuff back at all, since legally it was probably all theirs. He’d leave any decisions until after he’d gone through everything.

Just as he reached for the first box, there was another knock on the door. Almost relieved to have another excuse to put off opening anything, he went to open the door.

Natasha took one look at Steve and the sly smile she had on her face dropped. “Is everything okay, Steve?”

“Hi, Natasha. What do you mean?”

“It’s just you look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Or something. Come on in,” he said as he moved aside.

“What are those?” she asked as she walked in and put her purse on one of the hooks by the door.

“The Smithsonian just sent them over. It’s stuff that belonged to me, from before the war.”

“Oh, wow. Do you want me to go or…?” 

“Actually, would you mind staying? I don’t think I want to be alone for this.”

“If you’re sure….”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Steve. You might not realize it, but your face is an open book. I’ve seen the look in your eyes, wondering if I’m talking to you because I want to or because I was ordered to.”

He opened his mouth to deny it, but he couldn’t quite get the words out. Instead he shrugged, at a loss for what to say.

“I know my words might not mean much, Steve, but I can promise you I wasn’t ordered to be here. I’m just here because I figured you could use a friend and I’ve got a good feeling about you.”

“Sorry. For what it’s worth, I was hoping that was the case. And for the record, I’d like to be your friend too. I know I’ve said this before, but you really do remind me of an old friend of mine. He was a little bit like you, when he found someone he liked he decided he would stick by them, no matter what other people might think.” 

“He sounds a little like someone I know. Maybe one day I’ll introduce the two of you. But, for now, let’s tackle these boxes.”

Steve squared his shoulders and nodded. He couldn’t stall anymore and he was glad Natasha was there to help.

She grabbed a box at random, which happened to be the heaviest of the three and took a knife from somewhere that looked larger than could fit in a pocket and gently slid it across the top to break the seal of tape.

Inside was all the sketchbooks Steve had either managed to buy, was given as a gift, or made himself from scrap pieces of paper. Natasha picked one up and flipped it to a random page. Steve blushed when we realized that one was from when he drew dirty comics to make a few bucks.

“Why, Rogers, I didn’t realize this was what you were into,” she said as she took in the page filled with naked and half naked women in various poses.

He snatched the book back and placed it back in the box. “It’s not. I took whatever jobs I had to.”

“Wait, it’s not what you’re into?”

“Huh?” Steve asked, slightly distracted trying to move the box away from Natasha’s prying eyes. No one needed to see his old, probably horrible, sketches. 

“You said that’s not what you’re into. Most men wouldn’t respond like that.”

Steve’s eyes widen when he realized what she was implying. He knew, thanks to some of the sensitivity training SHIELD had provided, that homosexuality was more accepted these days. Knowing that didn’t stop that fear of people finding out which had been long ingrained into him, from running down his spine.

“I… I…”

“Hey, relax. You don’t have to say anything. I’m sorry I asked.”

“No, no, it’s okay. And, yeah, women aren’t exactly my type.”

“Huh. I never would have thought. Only because you don’t really look at anyone.”

Steve shrugged. “It’s hard to look when you’ve already found that one person.”

Natasha’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry. What happened to him?”

“He died in the war, before me.”

“What was his name?”

“Bucky.” It came out more as a whisper than anything, but Natasha still heard.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Steve shook his head. “There will probably be a picture of him in one of these other boxes. These things were donated by his family, after all.”

“Did they know? About the two of you?”

“No, no they never knew. Or, if they did, they never said anything. Wasn’t the done thing, talking about stuff like that.”

She nodded, and went for the next box, opening it with the same delicate touch as the first one.

In this box were the things that belonged to his mom. An old framed yellowed photo of his parents wedding day caught his eye right away. Reverently, he took the frame out of the box and ran his finger across the faded faces of his mom and dad.

“Who were they?” Natasha asked as she glanced at the photo over his shoulder.

“My parents. Sarah and Joseph Rogers. I didn’t get to know my dad; he died overseas in the Great War, sorry World War One, not long after I was born. My mom raised me all by herself.”

“Wow. Must have been tough.”

Steve nodded. “Especially since I was always so sick. It was lucky she was a nurse, she knew how to take care of me, but there were still a few moments when it seemed I wouldn’t make it. She never gave up on me though. Tough as nails, she was.”

“She sounds like an amazing woman.”

“She was,” he smiled. “She was my hero when I was a kid. She taught me to always stand back up, no matter how many times people try to put you down. Though I think she regretted teaching me that, sometimes, when I came home with a bloody nose or a black eye.”

He reached into the box and grabbed another photo, this one of Sarah and a young Steve. It was the only photo of the two of them together, and Sarah had displayed it with pride.

“How old are you here? Five, six?”

Steve laughed. “Nope. Ten.”

“Whoa. I’ve heard the stories of how small you were, but I always thought they were a bit of an exaggeration.”

“Nope. I was a shrimp. But if you tried to tell me that back then, I would have tried to kick your ass. It might have been a bit of a sore spot for me.”

Natasha nodded. “I sort of know how that is. I was always the smallest girl, but I liked to use that to my advantage, let them underestimate me.”

Steve stopped short. Natasha rarely shared anything about herself, much less her past. He didn’t want to scare her off, but he wouldn’t lie, he was curious. “Underestimate you?”

Natasha nodded. “Remember when I said I’ve gone through something similar to you? Let’s just say I didn’t have the most… conventional childhood. There’s a reason I’m the best at what I do, and it’s all to do with being trained from a very, very young age.”

“Oh, wow,” Steve struggled with what to say. There was so much he wanted to say, he wanted to ask, but he knew what it was like to have people poke at painful memories. “Well, here’s to surviving shitty childhoods?”

She laughed. “Amen to that. Anyway, enough about my childhood, more about yours,” she said as she reached into the box for the next item.

The rest of the box just held knickknacks and various things his mom had collected over the years. It brought back bittersweet memories of his mom, but he was glad he got to see a lot of her things again.

The third box held more photos as well as letters. This one seemed to be dedicated to all things related to Bucky. This was what he’d been really dreading, confronting these memories.

He took a deep breath as he picked up the first photo. It had been taken the summer after Steve graduated high school. Bucky, who was a year older, had graduated two years before, thanks to Steve being held back because of all the missed days due to illness. He’d already been working as a cashier at a local market, but he’d managed to get the day off to celebrate.

They’d gone to Coney Island, since it was a joint celebration with Becca, who was about to start high school. At the park there was a man who was taking photos for a few cents, and Bucky decided to splurge and pay for a photo of the three of them to commemorate the day.

Seeing Becca and Bucky brought up a swell of emotions Steve hadn’t been prepared for. Loss and anger and sadness raged within him, as well as the memory of the happiness he felt that day.

Natasha glanced at the photo, curious what would cause Steve to react so strongly, when she stopped short, eyes widening in surprise.

“Steve, who is that in the photo?” She asked, her voice struggling to contain the shock she seemed to feel.

Confused at her reaction, he answered “Becca and Bucky Barnes. Becca was like a sister to me, and Bucky, well... you know who Bucky was to me.”

“Barnes? Did you say Barnes?”

“Yes? Why?”

Natasha shook her head. “Sorry. Ignore me, it’s nothing. Bucky though, that’s an odd name. Was it a nickname or something?”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, except the only people to call him that was his close family. His real name was James.”

She nodded her head, like she’d had something confirmed that she’d been expecting to hear. “Natasha?”

“Oh, honestly, it’s nothing. I guess some of the history lessons they taught me about you stuck better than I thought they did, that’s all.”

He got the feeling that wasn’t quite it. Natasha was never one to let her emotions show so easily, so clearly whatever she saw in that photo shook her badly. He couldn’t imagine how though, Bucky wasn’t exactly famous. Sure World War Two historians and buffs knew all about Captain America and the Howling Commandos, but outside of that there wasn’t exactly much interest other than the fact that Bucky was the only one of them to die during the war.

She shook off her shock rather quickly though, and helped him sort through the rest of the box, which ended up being the letters he and Bucky had exchanged before Steve managed to get to Europe, as well as things they shared in the apartment they’d lived in.

Steve was examining the shaving kit which was mostly Bucky’s but Steve sometimes had to borrow, when he managed to grow more than a couple hairs on his face, when Natasha looked at her phone.

“Sorry Steve, but I just remembered something I have to do. Are you going to be okay, being alone? I can call Clint or someone, if you need company.”

Steve shook his head. “No, I’ll be okay. Is everything okay with you though?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I’ll see you later, Steve. Thank you for sharing all of this with me.”

“Thank you for being here,” he said as he got up to show her to the door.

After she left, he packed everything back up into the boxes. He knew he still needed to sort through what he wanted to keep and what he was willing to give back to the Smithsonian, but he just didn’t have the energy to begin to attempt it.

Instead, he decided to order some delivery for dinner, and try to find a show on his list of things to catch up, trying to distract from the torrent of emotions he’d confronted today.

If he was lucky, he might even be able to sleep tonight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm.... 
> 
> I feel like I'm becoming a broken record here, but thank you to everyone who's left any form of love for this! You guys have really made my day!


	5. Chapter 4: James

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James knits, cuddles with his cats, and talks with Natasha.

James loved what he did. He loved being able to take a piece of wood and turn into something useful, and sometimes even beautiful. He loved that he could get lost in his work and go for hours and hours, and never once get bored.

The one thing he hated, however, was dealing with clients. Most were okay, they understood his need for being left alone and only contacted him when necessary. Some though, some seemed to think it was a good idea to micromanage him and do things like request daily updates on their table or chairs or cabinet. _Daily._ James understood wanting to make sure they were getting their money’s worth, he really did. But when clients got too pushy, that was when just politely sent their money back and recommend they go somewhere else.

This client though? This one took the cake. He actually wanted to visit James at his “studio” as he seemed to think his workshop was called. It took all the training James had not to laugh him off the phone. Even better, when James tried to tell him to take his business elsewhere, he refused.

“You’re the best in the business, son, and I refuse to have anything but the best. Now, if we can just negoti—”

“No. No negotiations. Thank you for the compliment, but I work the way I work, and I refuse to compromise that for anyone. You can expect your money to be back in your account within two days,” James said as he hung up the phone, blocked the man’s number, and made a note to refund the asshole his money.

He hated pricks like that. He had before the war and after having dealt with the worst pricks humanity had to offer for fifty years? He had no tolerance for them. Even worse, he’d actually started on the ornate cabinet the man commissioned and now he had no idea what to do with it. It was too far along to try to turn it into something else, and he didn’t like the idea of scrapping it altogether.

Despite it being noon, the phone call left James with zero desire to even look at his workshop much less try to work on anything. So, resigned to calling the day a wash, he cleaned up and headed back to the cabin.

Despite the frustration he felt, he still wanted to do something more productive besides reading or just watching TV, so he grabbed his needles and the sweater he was currently working on, and settled in to watch some random cooking competition show.

Not even five minutes after he sat down, the cats descended upon him. They _loved_ knitting time because it meant James was going to be in the same space for an extended period of time and they could cuddle him to their heart's content.

 

_Illustration by[artgroves](http://artgroves.tumblr.com/)_  

 

His favorite, a runty little orange tabby, curled up on his shoulders. James stopped for a second to give them a little scratch on their head, then went back to knitting. The sweater was turning out better than his first attempt, which somehow ended up with one arm longer than the other, and a neckline that was almost as wide as his shoulders, despite having been sure he had measured everything.

He’d learned from his mistakes, it seemed, because so far this one was turning out much better. Not perfect, but it was passable as something to wear. He’d used a super soft yarn made from a local Angora yarn, dyed a beautiful royal blue. He’d been drawn to the color right away, he hadn’t even looked at anything else, he just bought it without a second thought.

Between the cats, the knitting, and the ridiculousness of Alton Brown putting chefs through the most ridiculous things imaginable, he managed to calm down by the time he had to get up to make dinner. He even treated himself to some of the fancy chocolate he had for dessert. He deserved it for not cursing anyone out or crushing any phones.

He went to bed that evening hopeful tomorrow would go much, much smoother.

 

* * *

 

As he was getting ready to head out to his workshop the next day, he heard an unexpected knock on the door for the second time that year. He still checked the security monitor, but he had an idea of who it might be.

When he saw Natasha on the screen, he smiled and went to answer the door, only to be thrown by the displeased look on her face.

“Natasha? Everything okay?” He asked as he moved aside to let her in.

“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me, _Bucky_.”

He froze. He hadn’t been called Bucky in a long time. Not since Steve. ... _Steve._

“You talked to Steve?”

“See, I was expecting you’d at least say you didn’t know what I was talking about, so I’m glad we get to skip that part of the argument and jump right into why you didn’t bother mentioning Captain America was your best friend the last time I was here.”

“I didn’t mention it because I don’t like talking about it. That part of my life was a long time ago.”

“Is it? Because you seem pretty damn affected by it still.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve never seen you nervous before, but anytime Steve comes up you get this look on your face. I noticed it last time too, but I didn’t think much about it. Did you even know he was alive?”

James sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. Director Carter called me when he was pulled from the ice.”

“So you’ve known all this time?”

“I have.”

Natasha huffed a breath and took a few steps as if to calm down. “Look, I don’t normally stick my nose into other people’s business unless I’m being paid to, but I’ve gotten pretty close to Steve. I’d even call him a friend. And James? Steve is not doing all that great. I know I can’t force you to do anything, but I think knowing you’re here, it might help him. Hell, it might help you too. You’ve hidden up here for close to twenty years now. I get the urge to want to hide away from the world James, but hiding from even the people who love you?”

“Natasha, I’m not… I can’t… he doesn’t want to see me.”

“He doesn’t even know you’re alive!”

“And it’s going to stay that way.”

“But why?! Look, I know who Steve was to you, James. He told me.” Fear crept up James’ spine. No one had ever known about him and Steve, other than Peggy, whom Steve, and therefore James, trusted with his life. “I don’t care about that, don’t worry. But I know how lonely you are and I know how much he’s hurting. I hate seeing the people I care about in pain, especially when I know there’s a simple solution.”

“No. You say you know Steve. If that’s true, then you know what a deep down _good_ person he is. If he knew what I did? Natasha, he wouldn’t want anything to do with me. All I’m doing is sparing the both of us more heartache.”

“You really believe that, don’t you?”

“Yes. I do.”

She sighed. “Okay, fine. If that’s how it’s going to be.”

“It is. Trust me, this is for the best.”

She nodded. “Fine. Look I can’t stay, but this isn’t over.”

“Did you come all the way out here just to yell at me?”

“I was already in the area and I hoped I’d be able to convince you to come with me to see Steve. I suppose I should have figured it wouldn’t be that easy.”

“You really should have.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll see you later, James. Oh!” She exclaimed as she looked down at her black cat who was rubbing against her leg in greeting. “Liho!”

“Liho?” he asked as she picked the cat, Liho apparently, and gave them a kiss.

“Yes, Liho. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you haven’t named the cats. She at least deserves a name.”

“She?”

“Oh my god, James,” she said as she gently put Liho down and walked back out of the cabin, closing the door behind her, leaving him slightly confused and angry.

 

* * *

 

For a few days after James was slightly on edge, worried Natasha would pop up again to continue the argument. When she didn’t appear, he let his guard down and relaxed, settling back into his routine of woodwork and knitting.

He tried not to think about what she said, but he couldn’t help himself. He knew he was right though, it was for the best that he stay away. He had to admit he was a little surprised to hear Steve was struggling. That wasn’t like Steve at all. The man James knew always took every new challenge head on, no fear or compromise.

Maybe that wasn’t totally fair to Steve, though. He, of all people, knew what it was like to lose time like that and how disorienting and heartbreaking it was to see how everything had changed.

Maybe, James reasoned to himself, Steve just hadn’t had enough time to adjust. Steve was stubborn when he wanted to be, and he just hadn’t allowed himself to get used to how different everything was. Once Steve got it through his head that there was no going back, he would settle in. He would see all the positive changes society had managed in the seventy years he’d been under the ice, and maybe even be happy he got to experience it for himself.

Even as the thought crossed his mind he knew it wasn’t true, but he willed himself to believe it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have the second piece done by the ever talented [alby_mangroves](http://artgroves.tumblr.com)! When I first saw this piece I couldn't stop smiling, I loved how she managed to capture Bucky's day to day life in his cabin in this one image. Leave some love for her in the comments, she deserves it for both of the fantastic pieces she's created for this fic!


	6. Chapter 5: Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve goes on a trip.

Steve had a few days off from SHIELD and he had to admit he was happier about it than he expected to be. Natasha had been away on a mission for the past few weeks and while he didn’t hate the rest of his coworkers, he didn’t always feel the most comfortable around them. Some looked at him like he was some great hero, there to save the day yet again. Others always acted like he was just there on Fury’s good graces. 

It was the latter that raised Steve’s hackles. He should have been used to it, he’d been looked down on like that his whole life, but it still chafed against his nerves. He tried to use that to push himself forward though, to work harder, just to prove those people wrong. 

Today though, he was going to do his best to not think about that. Peggy always was nagging at him to get out and actually experience DC and he had to admit she did have a point. From the little he’d actually seen, it seemed a lively, vibrant city, away from all the politics. And the best way to do that, he figured, was to go on his daily run.

Sure he’d been taking the same trail since he’d found it when he first moved, but it was less the scenery, which was admittedly beautiful, and more the people. Well, one person in particular, who took the same running path Steve did at the same time of morning. 

He hadn’t meant it to become a thing, but the man’s reaction as Steve lapped him over and over was far too entertaining to give up, and today was no exception. With each progressive lap, the man went from mildly annoyed to full on yelling as Steve said “On your left”.

He hadn’t expected the man to still be around as Steve finished his final lap though. He smiled as he walked over to the clearly out of breath and exhausted man laying on the ground by the sidewalk, “You all right?”

The man’s head popped up. “Oh, I’m just peachy. You sure you okay? I think I counted one less lap than normal, you’re clearly slacking.”

Steve huffed a laugh. “Well, it is my day off, figured I’d go easy for once.”

“ _That_ was going easy?”

Steve just shrugged.

The man shook his head. “Sam Wilson.” 

“Steve Rogers.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve. Though, not gonna lie, I sort of already put that together. Not many people can run, what was it, thirty laps in twenty minutes.”

Steve nodded. He should have figured, it wasn’t like he was trying to hide it. 

“Well, it was nice to meet you Sam,” he said as he started to walk away.

“Hey wait,” Sam called as he made to get up.

Steve turned, curious about what Sam might want. He watched as he got to his feet and jogged to catch up to Steve. “The way I figure it, you owe me lunch.”

Steve’s eyebrows raised. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Well given how much you’ve lapped me at this point, we’re practically friends. And given you’ve won our daily run many, many times now,” Steve let out an involuntary laugh at that, “you owe me lunch. Unless you have plans?”

Steve shook his head. “No, no plans.”

Sam smiled. “Perfect. I need to go shower off, but do you know the diner down the street from here?”

Steve nodded.

“Good. Meet me there in an hour.”

Steve laughed. “Sure, why not. I’ll see you in an hour.”

 

* * *

As promised, Sam was sitting in a booth waiting for Steve when he arrived at the diner an hour later, showered and wearing clothes that weren’t covered in sweat. Natasha would be proud, he actually looked like any other twenty-something having a day out. Not many people gave Steve a second glance, which he had to admit felt nice.

Steve wasn’t totally sure about this whole lunch thing, but both Peggy and Natasha had been nagging him about making friends, so he figured he didn’t have much to lose. Plus it wasn’t like he couldn’t defend himself should something go wrong.

The way Sam’s face lit up in surprise as he lifted his arm to let Steve know where he was, like he hadn’t actually expected him to show up, helped settle him a little bit. He wasn’t totally sure what it was, but he had a feeling it would be worth getting to know Sam better.

“Hey! I almost didn’t recognize you outside of your workout clothes. Have you ever been here before?”

Steve shook his head as he glanced at the menu in front of him. “Nope, though I’ve been meaning to check it out.”

Sam nodded. “They have the best patty melts ever. Like, if God himself made a patty melt, it would taste like that.”

Steve smiled. “Well, in that case, I’ll have to try it.”

A waitress made her way over and they both placed their order, Steve getting the recommended patty melt as well as a chicken sandwich and a couple orders of fries, plus a water. The waitress, expecting that was the entire order, looked surprised when Sam started to place his too. She glanced at Steve like she wasn’t sure if he was joking, but he kept his face neutral, so she walked away to put the order in.

“Whoa, that quite the appetite you’ve got there.”

“Running takes a lot out of me,” Steve joked.

“Yeah, I bet. So question.”

Steve braced himself. He’d expected this sooner or later, people asking questions about how he liked the future, or what it was like to be a super soldier. “Yeah?”

“Have you always been this much of a show off? Or did that come after the ice?”

“Hey! I’m not trying to show off!”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“...Okay, maybe a little bit. But running slow is harder than it seems. Sometimes it helps just to let go for a while.”

Sam nodded. “I get that. When I was in the Air Force, I never felt more at peace than I did when I was going all out when I was in the air. Nothing quite like it.”

“You served?”

“Yep, 58th Pararescue.”

Steve nodded. “Can’t say I agree about being in the air, but I get what you mean.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, I suppose you wouldn’t.” 

The waitress came by with their drinks, and to let them know their order would be out shortly. Steve thanked her and took a sip of his water. He made a little face as he sipped. The water didn’t quite taste the same as he was used to, not even in New York.

Sam apparently noticed. “Want to get something else to drink?”

“Nah. I’m just not used to it. Honestly, everything tastes a lot weirder than I’m used to. Almost more chemical like.”

“I bet it was a shock, everything being so different.”

“You might say that.”

Sam must have noticed how uncomfortable the topic made him. “So have you heard about the Dodgers yet? Because I don’t want to be the one to break the news to you, but if I have to be, I will.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, I heard. Still can’t believe it either. Los Angeles, of all places, too!”

“Do you have a team you root for now?”

“Not the Yankees.”

Sam barked a laugh. “I had a feeling. So the Mets?”

“They’re okay. Not the Dodgers, but if I gotta choose, it’s gonna be them.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, same.”

“You from New York too?”

“Harlem. Would have stayed there, but they needed more staffing at the VA here, so I figured why not? I do have to admit though, I miss it sometimes.”

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but the waitress came back with their food. As she placed the food down she said, “Let me know if you need boxes for any of that.”

Steve just smiled. “I will, thank you.”

“Uh huh,” she said as she walked away.

Even Sam looked a little dubious at the amount of food in front of Steve. “You sure you’re gonna be able to finish that?”

Steve nodded. “This is nothing compared to how much I eat when I’m really hungry.”

“I hope I get to see that someday; I’m sure it's quite the sight.”

“I do have to admit, it's fun seeing the servers reactions.”

“Why does that not surprise me? Alright, enough talking, try that patty melt and tell me I’m wrong, I dare you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve said as he picked said sandwich up and took a bite. “Eh, not bad.”

“Not bad?!”

“I’m kidding! It’s really good,” he said as he took another bite. It really was, too. As was the chicken sandwich and the fries. He was glad he’d taken Sam up on his offer, just for the food alone. 

The company was just as good. They settled into comfortable conversation, thankfully staying away from any painful topics. They talked sports mostly, as well as more places to check out in the DC area, since Sam had been there longer; and if this recommendation was any indication, the man had good taste. 

True to his word, he cleaned both plates. He even ordered a milkshake to go, half for the reaction on the waitress’ face, and half because he was still sort of hungry. 

They agreed to meet up again for lunch next week. Sam gave Steve his work address, and told him to meet him there. For the first time in a while, Steve was almost looking forward to something.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Steve was settling in for some breakfast and a random show on Netflix when there was a knock on the door. Confused at who could be visiting him at five in the morning, he got up to answer, only to find Natasha on the other side.

“Natasha, hey. Is… is everything okay?” He wasn’t sure how long she’d been back, but it wasn’t like her at all to show up unannounced, especially not this early.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure,” he nodded as he stepped aside to let her in.

“Is everything okay?” He couldn’t think of any reason why she would visit him like this unless it was an emergency. 

“Oh, yeah, everything is great, with me at least. You though, that’s the problem.”

“Huh?”

“You’re in mourning, Steve, and you haven’t done anything about it. Don’t try to deny it either, it’s true, and you know it.”

“O- okay? Did you come here just to tell me that or…?”

“I came here because I’m tired of watching the people I care about suffer, especially when there’s something I can do to fix it.”

“Natasha, I don’t think—”

“Steve, do you trust me?”

That was the very last question he expected her to ask him.

“Yes?”

“Then I need you to pack a bag and come with me.”

“Nat?”

“Please?”

Steve sighed. “How many days should I pack for?”

“A week.”

“Can I at least finish my food first, or is this a time sensitive matter?”

She blinked, and glanced over at the plate that sat on his coffee table. “Oh. Yeah, you can finish. In fact, eating doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Do you have enough for another plate?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind blueberry pancakes and bacon.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Steve shook his head as he served a plate up for her and they settled on his couch to eat. He’d never been to grateful to have a television since it provided noise in what was otherwise a strange and somewhat awkward meal. He would have tried for some conversation, but he was at a loss for what to say. 

From what he knew of Natasha she was a very level headed person, not prone to impulsive actions. Everything she did had a purpose and a reason; he just couldn’t begin to guess at the reason for this. She didn’t seem tense or nervous so he figured it couldn't be anything too bad. Maybe it was just what she said, she wanted to shake him from his moping. 

Soon enough the plates were cleaned, and he was packed up. She’d even instructed him on the type of clothes to bring and told him to change into something comfortable. “Something you can move easily in. And put on the hiking boots I got you; you’re going to need them.”

“And you’re not going to tell me where we’re going are you?”

“Well, it’s not like you asked. We’re going to Colorado.”

“What in the world could possibly be in Colorado?”

“That… that I can’t tell you. I made a promise.”

“Won’t taking me there break that promise?”

“Loophole. Come on, Rogers, let’s go.” 

He’d been worried they would drive the whole way in Natasha’s less than spacious car, but thankfully she just drove them to a small airport outside of DC, where a quinjet was waiting.

“Is this a mission for SHIELD?” he asked as they boarded and she set about preparing the jet for takeoff.

“Nope. I keep this for my personal use.”

“You keep a quinjet?”

She shrugged. “Perks of the job.”

“Does SHIELD know you have this?”

“Certain individuals are aware, yes.”

Steve just nodded. He got the feeling asking any more questions would just yield the same cryptic answers.

 

* * *

 

An hour later, they were landing at a similar small airport in what Steve guessed was Colorado. Waiting for them was nondescript looking car, much different from the flashy sports car Natasha had back in DC.

She popped the trunk and gestured for Steve to put his bag in, then unlocked the car for them to get in. Thankfully this one was far roomier and didn’t leave Steve’s legs feeling cramped as they drove. 

He had to admit Colorado was beautiful, but he was still too confused about why he was there to really take in the scenery as they sped past. 

Eventually Natasha made a sharp turn into what Steve first assumed was the thick foliage of the forest, but turned out to be a very, very well hidden road. Or a driveway rather, since it seemed to end a quarter mile away from the main road. 

“This is our stop, we walk from here,” she said as she parked the car and got out.

“Great. My favorite activity, walking through forests.”

“Oh, it won’t just be forest, there’s some mountain too.”

“Even better,” he said as he shouldered his bag, and steeled himself for however long this little hike ended up being.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you can handle it. Just… stay behind me, follow my steps, and you’ll be fine.”

“That doesn’t make me worry at all.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, but otherwise ignored him, instead turning to head into the forest.

The walk wasn’t grueling, but it was long. For almost an hour they trekked through densely packed forest, which eventually tapered off into more rocky terrain, with trees still lining the surrounding area.

Eventually, just as Steve started to worry they would be walking forever, a cabin appeared on the horizon.

A few yards away from the cabin, she turned to speak to him. “Look, I need you to stay here, okay? He doesn’t exactly know I’m coming, and if he sees I’m not alone, he won’t be very happy.”

“Natasha? What—”

“Just. Trust me, okay?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Right,” she said as she took a deep breath. She looked almost… nervous? He’d never seen Natasha look nervous before, not even on the most difficult of missions and it made him feel a little nervous as well.

She walked to the door of the cabin and knocked on it. After a few minutes, she started pounding on it, as if annoyed that whoever lived there was making her wait. Steve wasn’t sure the occupant was even awake, given the sun had just risen.

Just as Steve was starting to suspect there wasn’t actually anyone home, the door swung open and Steve’s heart stopped. At first he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, that his grief had possibly driven him to hallucinate. 

But no. He looked too different. He was bulkier than he remembered, his hair was longer, and he appeared to have a metal covering on his left arm. No matter how different he looked though, he would always recognize him.

“ _Bucky_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're in the same place at the same time! We have progress!
> 
> Now they just need to talk....


	7. Chapter 6: James

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James has a confrontation he wishes he could’ve avoided forever.

After about a week, James managed to put the whole thing with Natasha out of his mind. It wasn’t like she was going to change his mind either way. In fact knowing her, she was lying about Steve not doing well. He wouldn’t put it past her, trying to pull at his heart strings to get him to do what she wanted especially if she thought it was for his own good. Thankfully a new client came along and placed a very intricate order, which kept him very busy. It was just the way he liked it.

He really should have counted on Natasha not giving up though, because a month later there was insistent knocking on his door yet again. Even worse, it had actually woken him; she decided to pounce on him so early, possibly to catch him off guard and get him to agree to whatever her current plan regarding Steve was. He rolled his eyes as he kissed the little orange tabby good morning then got up to tell her to give it up and go away.

He walked to the door not even bothering to check the security feed, he was so annoyed. He quickly undid the locks and threw the door open. 

As he opened his mouth to ask her what the hell she thought she was doing, a voice he never thought he would hear again said: “ _Bucky_?”

No. She didn’t. She _wouldn’t_. 

But, as he looked over Natasha’s shoulder he saw she, in fact, had. The one thing, the _only thing,_ he’d been adamant about was not seeing Steve. And here Steve was.

Damn his traitor heart, but he wanted nothing but to go to him, pull him into his arms, and never, ever let him go.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to push that feeling aside. Now was not the time for that.

“Natasha, what the hell?”

“Natasha? What’s going on?” Steve asked, taking a hesitant step forward, as if he wasn’t sure what he was seeing was real. It pained him to see Steve like that, lost and confused, and it made him all the more pissed at Natasha. If only she’d left well enough alone.

She gave him a quick smirk, brat that she was, then turned to Steve. “Well, remember when I said I was tired of seeing the people I care about suffer? This is what I was talking about. James is being a stubborn idiot and causing unnecessary pain for the both of you. This,” she turned back again to glare at him, “is me fixing it.”

“Bucky? What… how… I thought you were dead.”

James sighed. As furious as he was with Natasha right now, it wouldn’t be fair to take it out on Steve. “Come on in, both of you. It’s too long a story to tell standing out here.”

Natasha gave James a smug smile as she stepped into the cabin. “Don’t think we won’t be having words later,” he muttered to her as she passed. 

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”

Steve still hadn’t moved from where he stood a few yards from the cabin. “Steve? You okay?”

“I… I’m not sure.”

It hurt, seeing Steve look so _lost_. The last time he saw Steve like that was after learning about his mom’s death in the sanitarium. The urge to bundle Steve in his arms grew stronger, and he dug his fingers into the door frame to keep from acting on that urge.

“Do… you want to come in?”

Steve paused for a moment, then nodded his head. He still hadn’t moved though, seemingly frozen to that spot.

“Steve…?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, yeah. Sorry.”

James nodded, and stepped aside to allow Steve in. As they passed each other, his hand itched to reach out, but he kept it in check. Steve stopped for a second and opened his mouth as if to say something, but shook his head and kept walking.

He finally released the grip on the doorframe, and groaned when he realized he’d have to replace it with how deep he’d dug his fingers in. Maybe he should make Natasha do it, it was her fault after all. It would hold up for the moment though, especially with all the added security he had in place. 

As he walked into the sitting room, he saw Natasha playing with her black cat (he refused to call her by the name Natasha gave her, especially with as angry as he was at the moment), and Steve standing there, taking in his surroundings.

Suddenly, James felt… nervous? He was proud of the life he’d built for himself, but he also never expected Steve to see any of it. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought James could and should have done better? Then he rolled his eyes at himself. His house was the _last_ thing he should worry about Steve not approving of.

Which, speaking of… “Natasha.”

“Yes, James?”

“How much does Steve know?”

Steve looked between the two of them, confused about what they were talking about, and James groaned, already knowing. “You didn’t tell him anything, did you?”

“Not my story to tell.”

“Oh, but you can bring him here? How does that make sense?”

“Bucky?”

James sighed, again. He seemed to be doing that a lot this morning. It was either that or lose his temper. “Sorry, Steve. You must have a lot of questions, and you’ll get your answers, I promise, but first, I just woke up and I need coffee.”

A small smile twitched on Steve’s face. “You never could function in the morning without coffee.”

James blinked. He hadn’t remembered that, but the truth of that statement rang in his head. Memories of having to be up early for his job as a… he couldn’t remember exactly. Some type of office job maybe? He wanted to ask, but that would cause more problems than it would solve, so instead he just turned to walk into the kitchen. 

“Have you eaten?” he called as he started to gather things to throw together breakfast.

“We did, before we came. I’ll take some coffee, though,” Natasha called back.

“Yeah I’ll give you coffee, all right.” He muttered as he walked into the kitchen. He was grateful for the fact he’d actually set the coffee maker up for once the night before which meant there was already hot coffee waiting. He grabbed three cups and filled it, milk, no sugar for Steve; black for Natasha who didn’t deserve her normal French Vanilla creamer; and four sugars in his own. 

He walked back out and sat the cups in front of their respective owners. Steve took a sip, then looked down and smiled. “You remember how I take my coffee.”

James blinked. He hadn’t even thought about it as he made it, it just happened on instinct.

Natasha raised an eyebrow as she looked at her own cup. “Really, James?”

“Yes, really.” 

“You’re such a child,” she said as she took a sip and grimaced slightly. 

He just smirked as he took a deep sip of his own.

“So can someone _please_ explain to me what is going on? I’m not going insane, right?”

“No, you’re not going insane,” James was quick to reassure him. 

“How are you even alive? I… I saw you fall.”

“You did. But, remember when you found me in that POW camp in ‘43?”

Steve nodded, brows knitted in confusion.

“Well it turns out the experiments Zola was doing was for the serum. And he was more successful than everyone first thought.”

James watched as realization dawned on Steve’s face, closely followed by horror. “Oh god,” he whispered. “You survived the fall. You survived, and I didn’t look for you. Is… is that why you didn’t want to see me? Are you mad at me?”

“No!” James practically yelled. “No, that’s not it at all, I swear Steve. That’s not your fault, none of it is. There was no way you could have expected me to survive and you had a job to do.”

“Then how—”

“Hydra found me.” Blunt. He felt it would be best that way, all at once like ripping off a bandage. “They found me and brought me in. Gave me this too,” he gestured to his left arm. “When they found me there was a lot of damage, not just to my arm. I… I couldn’t remember much.” He wasn’t going to mention how he still remembered Steve, called for him day after day, until Hydra managed to wipe him from his mind. Steve never needed to know any of that. “So they turned me into their assassin, their dog, killing on command, doing whatever they asked of me.”

He could see the fury rising on Steve’s face, and he forced himself to keep looking. It was what he deserved, after all. 

“How did you escape?” Not leave, _escape_. The word choice threw James. 

He was dreading telling this part even more. “In the early 90’s, Hydra sent me to kill two priority targets. One who managed to perfect the super soldier serum and was planning to move it to keep it from Hydra’s grasp, and one who Hydra suspected knew of not only the serum, but about Hydra’s continued existence. I succeeded in the killing the first target, as well as his wife. No witnesses. 

“But, as I waited for the second target in her own home, there was something that caught my attention. A photo of you. I’d already been out of the cryo chamber too long as it was, so seeing that confused me enough that the target managed to come in without me even noticing. Then, instead of killing her, all I could do was ask who the man in the photo was. 

“I still can’t believe she kept me alive instead of killing me on sight. But she did. Not only that, but she got me to a safe house, away from Hydra.”

As James talked, Steve got paler and paler, as if horrified to hear about some the crimes James has committed. 

“Who… who was the second target?”

“Peggy Carter.”

 

* * *

 

It was clear that it was a lot for Steve to take in and process, but he didn’t react the way James had expected. Instead of disgust and anger, Steve looked at James with a sort of… pity? Sorrow? He couldn’t quite tell, but it confused him. 

Though, he supposed, it could just be the shock. Eventually he would realize who and what James really was. Then he would leave. 

In the meantime, James decided he would leave Steve alone to let it all sink in. After all, he did have a schedule to keep, and he doubted the buyer would accept emotional reunions as an excuse for a later order. 

Natasha, on the other hand, didn’t seem to want to accept that. She followed him out to his workshop, clearly not done ruining his day as much as she already had. 

“You can’t just hide out here all day James.”

“You don’t want to do this now, Natasha,” he said, not even bothering to look at her as he collected the tools he’d need for the day. 

“Don’t I? The way I see it, I’ve saved both of you a lot of wasted time.”

He turned to glare at her. “No, you did the one thing I asked you not to do. You betrayed my trust Natalia. Yes I love Steve, and yes I want to be with him, but you had no right to go against my wishes like that.”

“You’re an idiot, Yasha.”

“Oh _I’m_ an idiot?”

“Yes you are. Do you know how many people would kill to be in your shoes right now? You have the man you love back from the dead, and instead of accepting this impossible gift the universe gave you, you turn away from it!”

“I don’t deserve it! Don’t you get it? I don’t deserve him anymore. If I’m being honest I never did, but at least before, I tried my best. Now,” he shook his head. “Steve deserves better.”

She just glared at him. “Idiot.”

“If that’s all you’ve got to say Natalia, you might as well go. I’ve got work to do.”

“Fine. I’ll go, only because Steve shouldn’t be alone right now. But this isn’t over, Yasha.”

He rolled his eyes as she walked back toward the house, but her verbal attack had done its damage. Instead of losing himself in his work, all he could focus on was her words. 

_Gift_. Like anything that had happened to either one of them had been a gift. He was surprised by her words though, it wasn’t like her to be sentimental like that. She was normally so level headed. He wondered what it was that got into her.

He gave up trying to focus on work after an hour, calling the day a wash. But he didn’t go back to the house. Instead he took a walk in the woods, hoping the distance would clear his head.

He knew better than to expect either Natasha or Steve to leave. Both were too stubborn for their own good, and when they really wanted something, they didn’t let it go. So he knew he might as well accept the fact that this was happening. At this point, all James could do was brace himself for the pain. While he’d told Steve the basics of what happened, he hadn’t gone into the grim details. Steve would ask though, and James wasn’t going to keep anything from him. He would let see Steve the monster he was, let him see who he’d really become. Maybe then Steve would leave, and James could put his broken heart back together again in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They talked! A little anyway. And Steve knows!


	8. Chapter 7: Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky have a talk.

Steve watched as Bucky and Natasha walked out, but he was too numb to follow. There was just so much going through his head, so much to process.

There was one thought that he kept coming back to: he’d failed in everything tried to do before he’d died. He’d failed to take out Hydra, and even worse, he’d failed Bucky. Why hadn’t he gone to look for him? Even just for his body, to bring back home to his family. But no, he let his anger, his need for vengeance get the better of him, and left Bucky to be found, be tortured by some of the most evil people Steve had ever known.

Of course, Bucky hadn’t used the word torture, but Steve could read between the lines. There was no other way Bucky would do what he’d said he’d done. He knew Bucky; he wasn’t a killer by nature. Even during the war, when it had been a necessary evil, Steve could see the toll it took on him. 

It was clear, that whatever Bucky had been through weighed greatly on him. He’d never been one to hide away, always having been the more outgoing between the two of them, so for him to be so isolated? It broke Steve’s heart.

As he glanced around, he realized something that he hadn’t quite caught in his shock. Bucky hadn’t been surprised to see Steve. He’d known Steve was alive, and he hadn’t wanted to see him. 

It hurt, pierced deep to his core, but he didn’t blame Bucky. No matter what he might have insisted, he had to blame Steve for what had happened to him. If only Steve had been quicker to grab him before he fell, if only he’d killed the guard who’d shot him out of the train instead of just knocking him out….

Before his thoughts could spiral, a sudden meow and a small bump on his leg startled him. He looked over and saw a small black and white cat batting at Steve’s leg. 

“Well hello there, little one.”

Pleased it had Steve’s full attention, the cat jumped up into his lap and curled up, happy as could be.

“Um…,” he flailed, the cat completely unaware of Steve sudden confusion as it purred away on his lap. Before the serum, he’d been deathly allergic to cats, so he’d avoided them as much as he could. And now he’d never been home enough to consider getting a pet, and he wasn’t sure he’d even _want_ a cat. 

This one didn’t seem to get that memo though. As Steve shifted, trying to get comfortable, the cat just shifted with him, moving just enough to stay as comfortable on his lap as possible.

“You’re really not going to move, are you,” he chuckled as he gave in and gave it a light scratch behind the ear.

It really was a cute cat, Steve had to admit as he stroked up and down its back. Then another cat, this one all black, came up to sniff Steve, and he realized as he looked around the room that Bucky had at least five or six cats, possibly more.

This, if nothing else, was proof to Steve that no matter what Bucky might try to say he hadn’t changed one bit. Bucky always did like taking care of others, so of course he’d end up adopting cats. Strays if he had to guess.

As he went to wiggle his fingers to play with curious cat next to him the door opened up and Natasha came back in. The cat made a sound and ran to her, begging for attention, which it got as Natasha picked it up, surprising Steve.

“Well, that went better than expected,” she sighed as she came to sit on the couch next to him. “I see you’ve picked up a little friend.”

“Heh, yeah, it just sort of decided my lap looked comfortable, and made itself at home.”

“She.”

“Huh?”

“That cat’s a she, and honestly I’m surprised she took to you so quickly. I’ve tried to get her to come to me, but the most she’ll do is sniff and walk away.”

“Well, in that case, I feel honored. Does she have a name?”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “No, none of them do. Except for Liho here, but that’s only because I named her. James likes to pretend that if he doesn’t name them then he doesn’t actually care about them, despite spoiling them all rotten.”

Steve nodded. “That sounds like him. Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Just one thing?”

“For the moment. Why do you call him James?”

“It’s what he asked to be called. Why?”

“It’s just, he always hated being called James, when we were kids. It was what his mom called him when he was in trouble.”

Natasha smiled. “I didn’t know that.”

“He never talked about it?”

She shook her head. “We made an agreement, the past was the past. It made things easier. Or at least I thought it did. I might have been wrong about that.”

Steve nodded. “When… when did you figure it out?”

“That day, when we were going through the boxes the Smithsonian sent over.”

“And you didn’t know before that?”

“I didn’t. And, before you ask, I didn’t say anything that day because I wasn’t totally sure, and I wanted to talk to James first.”

“You two are really close, aren’t you?”

“He’s part of the reason I’m here today. I’m not sure SHIELD would have taken a chance on me if they didn’t have proof that the conditioning Hydra used could be broken. Though Clint might have made them either way.”

Steve smiled. He wasn’t totally sure what the story with Natasha and Clint was, but he could tell they cared about each other deeply. 

“I know this is a lot to take in, Steve, but try not to take too long, okay? Talk to him.”

He sighed, but then a thought came to him. “Wait, Natasha, I can’t stay, I’m only on vacation for another two days.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle it. Just focus on you and James.”

He raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t say anything. He’d long since learned Natasha had a way of getting what she wanted, and he didn’t really want to know how she managed it.

“Also,” Natasha added as she turned to walk into the hallway, “think of a name for that cat. She’s clearly claimed you, and I don’t think there will be any shaking her.”

Steve smiled as he looked down at the purring ball of fluff in his lap. “So you’re stubborn like me, huh? Yeah, we’ll get along just fine.”

 

* * *

 

Steve didn’t exactly know what to expect, being here in Bucky’s home, but it wasn’t the almost oppressive air of solitude the cabin seemed to bring. It wasn’t helped by the fact the only company he had was of the four legged furry kind, as adorable as they were.

Natasha was around, but she was currently with Bucky, trying again to get him to come back inside and talk. Steve wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about that. If Bucky didn’t want to talk to him, he shouldn’t have to. After all they were the uninvited guests here. 

All that time to himself did help Steve to finally think clearly about the situation. Mostly how Peggy had known about Bucky, but had neglected to tell him. Sure, when Bucky had explained everything, he’d made it clear that she was only honoring his wishes, but it still stung.

Though, thinking back to the day went to visit her, the odd comment about him being like “James” was starting to make sense. It was clearly a slip of her mind, he doubted she’d ever meant to betray Bucky’s trust like that, but knowing he’d been so close to finding out sooner, if only they hadn’t been interrupted. 

A meow startled him out of his thoughts, as the black and white cat asked to jump on his lap again. He smiled and gestured his permission. With a trill, she jumped and made herself comfortable, bunting Steve’s arm to get him to pet her.

“You know, Natasha’s right. You do need a name.” He’d never been good at naming things, that was always something Bucky did much better. The only time he’d ever given a name or a nickname to anyone, it had been to Bucky, and that was the best his five year old brain could think of. Honestly the nickname had stuck more out of joke than anything, their parents finding too adorable to not call him that.

He looked at her, trying to think of anything that could fit. He didn’t want anything too cutesy, despite her being the sweetest cat he’d ever met. Nor did he want to just call her something based on her coloring, that seemed too boring.

She did have the most adorable pink nose though, which reminded him of a rosebud.

“That’s perfect. I think I’ll call you Rose. What do you think of that, huh?”

She blinked up at him and gave a little meow, which he took as agreement.

“All right, Rose it is.”

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day was spent pretty much the same way, sitting on the couch with a cat curled on his lap. Natasha, on one of her breaks from Bucky as she’d called it, found the TV remote for Steve, so he found a channel that appeared to be showing game shows of all things, and settled in letting the mindless entertainment wash over him.

Eventually Bucky did come back in from whatever he was doing, to prepare food for dinner. Steve offered to help, but Bucky waved him off saying he prefered to cook alone. Given Steve didn’t remember Bucky ever having cooked once in his life, he really couldn’t say if that was the truth, or Bucky’s way of avoiding being around him. He hoped it was the former.

Surprisingly, the meal turned out amazingly well. Fresh bread that Bucky had apparently baked yesterday, along with a spinach salad and some baked chicken. 

“Where did you learn to cook?” Steve asked between bites of the bread. He was on his second slice, and he was almost ready to reach for a third.

“Picked it up once I moved out here. Had to learn, otherwise I would have starved.”

“Right.”

God, he hated how awkward things were between them, and he didn’t know what to do to fix it.

“Well I may not have been here at the very beginning, but I was here for a lot of James’ weird food phase, and let me tell you it wasn’t pretty,” Natasha smiled as she took a sip of water.

“Hey, it wasn’t weird. I was learning! Trying new things!”

“James. Two words. Cabbage. Soup.”

Steve’s head snapped up.“You made cabbage soup?” 

Natasha looked as Steve, as if he proved her point. “Yes. It was as bad as it sounds.”

“No, that’s not it. My ma used to make that. It was one of Bucky’s favorites.”

“Oh.” Natasha cleared her throat. “I’m sure your mom’s tasted better. James forgot what salt was; it was very bland.”

“Yeah, yeah. I forgot the salt _once_ and you never let me forget it.”

“Then there was the cucumber chocolate cake.”

“Okay, that one I will admit was my fault. In my defense, I thought it was a zucchini.”

Steve smiled, just imagining what that must have tasted like.

Seeing the way Bucky and Natasha interacted made him happy that Bucky at least had someone. At the same time it made him long for things to be that easy between the two of them again. He was beginning to feel like they would never be like they once were, that too much had happened, that there were too many wounds between them.

The banter between Natasha and Bucky continued through the rest of dinner, with Steve just chiming in when he felt he had something to add which wasn’t often. It wasn’t like they were going out of their way to exclude him. Or Natasha wasn’t. Bucky, well, he didn’t ignore Steve, but he didn’t exactly talk to him either, not directly. 

He tried not to think about the reason why.

After dinner Bucky shooed them out of the kitchen, not letting them touch the dirty dishes. Instead he told Natasha to get the guest room ready, and that the two of them could fight over who got to sleep on the couch.

Before Steve could even open his mouth Natasha said, “I’ve got the couch. You can take the guest room, and don’t even think about saying no. I’m the one who dragged you out here, I can take the couch.”

“If you’re sure….”

“I’m sure.”

Once the bedroom was all aired out and the sheets were on the bed, a sudden wave of exhaustion hit Steve and he let out a giant yawn.

“Look, you’ve had a long day. Why don’t you take a shower and go to bed. It’ll give me another chance to get through to James.”

Steve nodded, too tired to even try to argue. He went through the motions, not really paying attention to what he was doing, and before he knew it, he was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

 

* * *

 

Any hope Steve had that Bucky would be a little more open to talking to him was dashed when he woke up the next morning. The downside to going to sleep early was waking early, and Steve found himself up before the sunrise with little to do to keep himself occupied. So he went downstairs, trying to be as quiet as possible, only to find the kitchen light was on and a note was left on the counter. 

_Gone out for supplies, be back by the evening._

He didn’t even have time to put the note back down when Natasha appeared, startling him. 

“Damn it, James,” she groaned as she glanced down at the note. “I’m sorry, Steve. If I’d have known he’d be like this, I would have at least warned you.”

“No, it’s fine. Shockingly, this isn’t totally out of character for him. He never did like confrontation; he would avoid it at all cost. Sometimes I’d have to corner him just to get him to talk about something.”

“That’s honestly a little surprising. The James I know goes after whoever has pissed him off, with all guns blazing. Literally, sometimes.”

“Oh, I’m not saying he shied away from all fights. Far from it. Do you know how we met?”

She shook her head.

“I was five, six maybe? It was summer, and all the kids were running around, playing, getting into trouble, things like that. I was outside coloring, my mom wanted me to get as much fresh air as possible, saying it would be good for my lungs, when I saw these kids huddled around something. So I walk over, curious, when I see it’s a puppy and they’re poking at it with a stick, trying to make the poor thing yelp. Obviously I tell them to cut it out, and the focus goes from the puppy to me. Which was fine, it gave the puppy a chance to run, but I hadn’t exactly thought it through past that. 

“I put up a good fight, but I was no match for three boys at least a head taller than me. I did get a good punch in, bloodied up a nose, before they overwhelmed me. That was when Bucky came over to see what the commotion was all about. Well Bucky took one look and jumped in, kicking one of the boys in the back before punching another in the stomach. They ran off afraid of a fair fight, I think.”

“And you two were the best of friends ever since?”

Steve laughed. “Something like that.” Of course it took Steve a few weeks to realize Bucky’s offer of friendship was genuine and not out of pity. Once he figured that out though they were rarely seen without the other, until the war at least.

“He’ll come around,” she tried to reassure him.

“Yeah.” He wasn’t entirely convinced though. Bucky could out stubborn Steve when he really wanted to, and it was clear, in this case, he was going to give it his best shot.

Natasha tried her best to offer distractions, even playing a video game called Mario Kart with him. He was convinced she was cheating, give how she managed to pull out a win nearly every round, but she insisted it was just skill.

No amount of distraction could stop that small pit of fear from growing in his stomach. No matter what Bucky claimed, it was clear he was angry with Steve. Why else would he avoid him? 

Or… had he figured out why Steve really went down with the plane, and resented him for giving up and lying peacefully in the ice while Bucky suffered? Honestly he wouldn’t blame Bucky for that, it would only be fair. He hated himself for it, knowing he had the chance to stop it, if only he’d thought to look, or had gone after Hydra harder.

He thought about asking Natasha to leave, to let Bucky live his life in peace without him, but Steve was, deep down, a selfish creature. He wanted to soak up as much time with Bucky as he could before Bucky finally got tired of him and sent him away.

Eventually, Bucky did return, his truck laden with bags of groceries.

Before Bucky even had a chance to say anything, Natasha stalked out to yell at him.

“James, what the hell? Did you really just leave in the middle of the night for a grocery run that lasted all damn day?”

“Okay one, it wasn’t the middle of the night, it was early in the morning,” Natasha made a noise of disgust at that, which Bucky ignored as he continued. “And two, I had other things to get done, and since you decided to come up for a surprise visit, I figured I should get it all done in one trip. Or did you want to me have to go out again tomorrow?”

“Don’t pull that bullshit on me, James, I know better than that. But, if what you say is true, you won’t mind spending tomorrow with us, now will you?”

Bucky shrugged. “Nope, don’t mind one bit.”

She narrowed her eyes, but didn’t push the issue further. 

Along with groceries, Bucky bought pizzas for dinner. The drive was long enough that he had to put them in the oven to reheat, but they still tasted just as good. Paired with a salad, it was an delicious dinner.

Seeing what Bucky had on his pizza was a surprise, though.

“Wait, is that pineapple?”

Bucky glanced at him, blushing a bit. “Yeah, so?”

“It’s just, _pineapple_?”

“What? A lot of people have pineapple on pizza.”

“James has a sweet tooth.”

“He always did. Whenever he had a spare coin as a kid, he would always buy a piece of candy.”

“Hmmm,” Natasha said, giving a smug smile to Bucky.

“Don’t, Natalia,” Bucky glared back

It was clear this was a continuation of a conversation, but it was one Steve clearly hadn’t been a part of. 

Like the night before Bucky did the dishes solo, and Steve was further reminded of their childhood. Whenever he ate at the Barnes’, Mrs. Winifred would always insist guests shouldn’t do dishes. Eventually he got her to relax that rule with him, on account they were practically family. In a way it hurt Bucky insisted on treating them like guests now. 

In a reverse of last night Bucky was the one who turned in early, claiming to be exhausted from running errands all day. So he and Natasha decided to just put on some TV and curl up on the couch, cats cuddled around them.

As it grew late they got up and stretched, and Natasha turned to him. 

“Look, Steve, I think it would be better if I left.”

“What? No, why would that be better?”

“Because, if I’m here, James will just keep using me as a buffer, assuming I’ll keep you company so he can leave you alone without feeling guilty. If I leave, maybe the two of you can finally talk.”

He knew it made sense, and part of him really did want to be alone with Bucky, but he was also scared. It was already awkward with Natasha around to try to smooth things over; with her gone it would be unbearable. 

“You’re right,” he finally admitted. “When do you plan to leave?”

“Now.”

“What? This late?”

“Trust me, it’s better if I leave without James knowing.”

“Oh, so I get to explain this to him?”

“It’ll get the two of you talking,” she pointed out.

“Great. Perfect,” Steve groaned, already dreading how _that_ conversation would go.

She shrugged. “You’ll thank me for it later. He will too, thought that might take a little longer.”

“Nah. Bucky wasn’t always great at holding grudges, at least not with people he loves.”

She smiled, a small, hopeful smile. “I really hope so.”

 

* * *

 

When Steve woke up the next morning, thankfully Bucky was in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. It was nice, having Bucky be in the same room as him without running on sight.

“Where’s Natasha?” Bucky asked, not looking up from his cup. “I didn’t see her on the couch, and her boots are gone.”

“She left.”

“What? When?”

“Last night, after you went to bed.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “She didn’t need to sneak away like that, she could have said goodbye.”

Steve shrugged. “It was what she wanted.”

“Of course it was.”

At a loss for what to say, he decided to busy himself with making a cup of coffee and pouring a bowl of cereal. Once he sat down at the kitchen table to eat, Rose walked up, circled Steve’s legs, then sat down next to him, something she’d taken to doing whenever Steve sat down to eat. 

“Hey, Rose,” Steve greeted as he gave a small scratch behind her ear, which she leaned into. It made Steve smile a bit, seeing how trusting this cat was of someone who was pretty much a stranger to her.

Bucky looked down, raised an eyebrow, then shook his head and went back to nursing his coffee.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just should have figured that cat would take to you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“No, not nothing. You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean something by it.”

“Steve, can we not right now? It’s too early for this, let me at least finish my coffee first.”

“No, Bucky. I think we should, before you find something else that will take up all your attention for the day. You say you don’t mind me being here, even though I offered to leave, but then you just ignore me! I’ve barely even seen you, you run and hide the second you get the chance!”

“I’m not hiding, I’ve been busy. It’s not my fault Natasha picked the worst time to drag you here.”

“Would there _ever_ have been a right time Bucky? Or would you have found a way to keep yourself busy no matter when she showed up with me?”

“Well, I’ll guess we’ll never know, now will we?”

“I can leave, if you want. It’s not that far from the nearest town, I don’t mind walking. I can say my car broke down or something.”

“Only if that’s what you want.”

Steve suppressed a groan, and the familiar urge to shake him by the shoulders came back to him. He’d actually forgotten how frustratingly passive aggressive Bucky could be when the mood struck him.

“No, that’s not what I want! I want you to talk to me! I want to talk to you! But you’re not even giving me the chance!”

Something seemed to snap in Bucky at that statement. “You don’t get it, do you? You’re so stubborn, it’s like you refuse to see it!”

“See what? Huh, Bucky, see what exactly?”

“See that I’m not the man I used to be! I _can’t_ be him, Steve. He died in a Hydra holding cell a long time ago, and he ain’t comin’ back.”

“I know that! You think I don’t know that? I get it, trust me. I’m not the same man I used to be either. People change Buck.”

“No, you _don’t_ get it, Steve. Yeah you might have been frozen, and yeah I get that waking up in a different time is a shock, but you’re still you. You’re still the same honest, _good_ man that died to protect his country. I was twisted and shaped into a monster, and there’s no turning back from that.”

“Is that what you think I did, died to _protect my country_?” Steve asked, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. 

“Didn’t you? Peggy told me all about it, how there was no way you could land that plane, how you sacrificed yourself to save the East Coast. You’re a hero, Stevie, you deserve better than a villain like me.”

“I lied!” He yelled before he could stop himself. “I lied about not being able to put the plane down safely. I didn’t even try.” He hadn’t meant to admit that, ever, but hearing Bucky call himself a villain was too much, and made the words slip out before he could take them back.

Bucky froze, stunned as if he’d been slapped. “What?”

“I. Lied. Did you ever stop to think about why I didn’t attempt to jump out and swim for it? Or look for a parachute? I didn’t want to, Buck. I wanted to go down with that plane.”

“I don’t… what are you saying, Steve?”

“I’m saying I didn’t… I _couldn’t_ live without you. Hell, I almost jumped out after you on that train. The only thing stopping me was vengeance. I wanted the people who cost you your life to suffer first, to pay for taking you away from me. Once that was done, then I could join you.”

Normally, Steve didn’t run from anything, it wasn’t in his nature. But the look of horror on Bucky’s face as Steve admitted to trying to kill himself was too much to take. He couldn’t face seeing him realize what a coward Steve really was. So before Bucky could say anything, he got up and walked out, seeking refuge in the quiet comfort of the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It can only go up from here.
> 
> Also, fun fact: Rose is based off of one my cats! Her real name is actually Hestia and if you're curious you can see a photo of her [here](http://jynladyofstardust.tumblr.com/private/178770139706/tumblr_pg5by9fWyq1rgkp8o)!


	9. Chapter 8: James

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James tries to keep busy, and remembers things he’d thought lost forever.

_I didn’t even try._

The words were still ringing in James’ ears, shock paralyzing him where he stood as Steve walked out of the cabin and disappeared into the surrounding forest.

_I didn’t even try._

His legs gave out underneath him, and he fell to his knees. Of all the things he’d expected to hear, that never even made the list. 

_I didn’t even try._

Even as the truth of Natasha’s words were staring him in the face, that Steve really _wasn’t_ doing as well as James thought, his mind was still in denial mode. There was no way Steve _I’ll look death in the eyes and laugh_ Rogers would actively try to— to kill himself. Every nerve in his body was screaming at the wrongness of the very thought.

But, as much as he tried to reject the idea, he couldn’t ignore the facts. Steve, _his Stevie_ , had put that plane in the water not intending to survive. It was only thanks to the serum that Steve was even here today, that James had his second chance.

And what had he done with that small miracle? He’d thrown it away, refusing to even let Steve know he was alive. He’d let Steve think he was all alone in the world. He’d let Steve suffer.

He’d let Steve _suffer alone,_ needlessly, while he sat blissfully unaware in solitude. Hell, if he was being honest with himself, he let them both suffer all because he was too scared of what Steve would think of him.

Looking back, it was laughable. He knew Steve, and he knew that once he made his mind up about someone, he would never give up on that person. He should have trusted Steve, gone to him when he’d heard from Peggy he was alive. Hell, he should have been the first person Steve saw when he woke up in the 21st century, been the one to help him adjust to all the changes, helped him mourn all he’d lost.

They’d both lost all this time, all because James was a coward.

A small meow startled James from his self pity, and he looked down to see the black and white cat, _Rose, Steve called her Rose_ , looking up at him, as if asking where her human had gone.

“Hey baby,” he said as he stuck his right hand out for her to sniff. She did, then meowed again when that didn’t produce the answer she wanted.

“I don’t know, Rosie. I— I upset him, I’m sorry sweetie. He’ll be back soon, don’t worry.” _I hope, anyway._

She meowed at him again, then walked off to search the house for Steve, he assumed.

_He doesn’t even have a jacket_. It was such an inane thought, but it managed to chase the numbness from his mind. It was early enough into autumn that the cold hadn’t had time to settle in, but the mornings could still be chilly. Steve had wandered out in just a shirt and pants, having come down just to eat breakfast. He probably didn’t even have _shoes_ on.

The overwhelming urge to run out of the cabin and scream for Steve, find him and hold him, apologize for everything, overtook him. It took all of his power to not give into that urge, remembering all too well what Steve was like when he was upset. It was best to let Steve stew for a bit, get the worst of his anger out, before trying to talk to him. Sometimes that took a few days, but James didn’t think either of them could wait that long. He hoped Steve wouldn’t try to camp out in the forest for that long, though he wouldn’t put it past Steve to try.

It was ironic, since that detail, Steve’s slow burning anger, was something he hadn’t even remembered before Natasha dragged Steve out here. Just by Steve being here, James was remembering so much more about his past before the war, something he’d thought lost to Hydra and time forever. It felt like a gift he didn’t deserve, something he hadn’t even earned. 

It wasn’t just memories of Steve either. Memories of Steve’s mom, Sarah, as small as Steve but filled with just as much fire as him; fiercely protective of her son, and once it became clear how close the two of them actually were, of James as well. Thought they’d never told her just how deep their feelings went for the other he got the feeling she’d known anyway, and in her own way showed the acceptance that they’d been too scared to ask for.

Memories of _his_ mom, kind and gentle, always looking out for her children. Even when things had been tough, which was often, she’d made sure he and Becca never went without the basics. There were nights when she’d say she just wasn’t hungry, or had eaten earlier while she was cooking, but in fact had given her share of the food to the two of them. How she’d taken jobs that made her hands chapped and bleeding when she’d come home, but still managed to keep their little apartment cleaned, their clothes looking as impeccable as possible.

Of their dad, stoic and hard working. Somehow, despite everything, he’d managed to find work that paid enough to keep them clothed, fed, and in their apartment, a major accomplishment for the times. James remembered wanting to drop out of school, to help take the burden off his dad and find work of his own. His dad refused, adamant his children would have the education he’d never been able to have.

Of Becca, young and energetic, always tagging along with James and Steve when they went on their adventures as children. Despite her being five years younger, they’d always been close. James would have done anything for her, she’d had him wrapped around her little finger. There were days he spent indoors playing tea time with Becca instead of playing stickball with his friends. Steve was usually there as well, unless he was too sick to leave his bed. He’d loved Becca as a sister, and thankfully Becca had felt the same about Steve.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Now was not the time to get lost in the past. He needed to stay focused on the here and now. Steve could walk in at any minute, and James wanted to make sure he was as calm and put together as possible. He didn’t want his emotions to get in the way of making sure Steve was okay; he’d done enough of that already to the detriment of everyone involved. 

Instead he busied himself, using the time to clear off the now cold coffee and throw away the eggs he’d taken out to cook for breakfast since they’d been sitting out for far too long to be safe.

Once he’d finished with that, he was at a loss for what to do. He didn’t want to leave the cabin, didn’t want Steve to come back and find him gone. He didn’t want Steve to think he was still trying to avoid him, though that’s exactly what he’d been doing up until that point. Not because he didn’t want to see Steve, but because he was scared to see what look Steve would have in his eyes when he looked at him. He was a coward, but he was done running. 

Unable to think of anything to occupy his time, he ended up just sitting on the back porch, facing the woods where Steve disappeared, staring intently, as though if he glared hard enough, Steve would appear. Of course he didn’t, but James kept looking anyway. He refused to look away. He wouldn’t give up on Steve, not again.

 

* * *

 

He spent hours like that, not moving, just staring. As the sun began to set, fear began to set in that Steve could be lost. The woods were unfamiliar to him, and it was very possible he wouldn’t be able to find his way back, especially once night fell. As he debated with himself whether he should go after Steve, he heard a rustle come from the trees. He stood knowing that sound couldn’t be anything or anyone but Steve.

He didn’t know what he expected, but seeing Steve appear, eyes red as if he’d been crying, broke his heart into a million pieces. He’d made Steve _cry_. The last of the resolve he had of staying away from Steve, of not forcing himself or his love on him, dissipated at seeing the heartbreak on Steve’s face as he walked toward James.

He walked off the porch unsure of the reception he’d receive, but not caring as he met Steve halfway. Steve’s hand came up and he braced himself for a blow, but instead of a punch his hand came up and cupped James’ cheek, as if James were something precious. On instinct his own hand came to rest on Steve’s neck, and they stood there, frozen, lost in each other’s eyes. Every fiber of his being cried out for James to kiss Steve and he’d even started to move to do just that, but he stopped himself. He didn’t deserve that, not yet. He still needed to make amends, to apologize for all the hurt he’d caused.

He couldn’t deny himself completely though, so instead he grasped Steve in a bruising hug which Steve returned automatically. He grabbed the back of Steve shirt in his fist, grounding himself in the moment. It was the best hug he’d had in his entire life and he never wanted to let Steve go.

  
_Illustration by[maichan](http://maichan-art.tumblr.com)_

They held onto each other so tightly it was almost difficult to breathe, but that was more than fine with James. As long as he had Steve, he didn’t need anything else. He heard a sniff and felt a wetness on his shirt and reluctantly pulled back to see that Steve had started crying again.

“Oh, Stevie, I’m so sorry,” he said as he brushed away the tears from Steve’s cheeks.

Steve’s hands went to James’ face and wiped away the wetness he hadn’t been aware was even there. “No, Buck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put that on you like that, you didn’t deserve it.”

“Steve, no, I’m glad you told me. _I’m_ sorry you went through all of that alone. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

Steve brow wrinkled in confusion. “What do you mean? It was my fault you fell in the first place. None of this would have happened if I—”

“Okay, I’m going to stop you right there, Stevie. It wasn’t your fault. None of what happened to me was. It was Hydra and shitty luck, that’s it. And that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry I wasn’t there after they found you in the ice. I let my fear get the better of me, and I shouldn’t have.”

“Buck, no. You had every reason to stay away. I don’t blame you. I’m just glad you’re okay, that you’re safe now.”

“Me too. I’m glad you’re here now, I’m glad Natasha didn’t listen to me and brought you here. I owe her big time.”

Steve sniffed and let out a wet laugh. “Same.”

They stood there, holding each other and unable to look away. Had Steve’s eyes always been so beautiful, or was that another lost memory? They were such a deep, beautiful blue, like the ocean and James felt like he was drowning in them. 

If he’d had it his way, he would have stood there in Steve’s arms forever, but both of their stomachs gave loud growls and James was suddenly and uncomfortably aware that neither of them had eaten anything since last night.

They both let out soft chuckles as they reluctantly let go of each other. “I’m guessing you’re hungry, too?” James asked as he took Steve’s hand and led him inside.

“Yeah, I guess I could eat,” Steve said as he squeezed his hand in return.

“Well, I think I can dig something out of the fridge. You in the mood for anything in particular?”

Steve shook his head. “Nah, I’m fine with whatever.”

“Sandwiches okay?”

“Do you have any more of that bread from the other night?”

“Yep, and plenty of lunch meats and cheese.”

“Sounds perfect.”

James quickly whipped up a few sandwiches for the both of them, as well as a quick fruit salad, and led Steve to the living room where they settled on the couch so they could eat and still be as close as possible. Now that he’d finally let himself touch Steve, he didn’t think he could stop. It felt like a reassurance, a reminder that Steve really was there, that it wasn’t a hallucination. Steve was real and he was alive.

Thankfully Steve seemed to be content with just cuddling, not pushing for more. Not that James didn’t want more, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready. It had been so long since he’d touched anyone without violent intent and even this almost felt like too much.

But at the same time, being held by Steve felt like bliss, so he let himself get lost in the feeling and eventually they fell asleep like that, held in each other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progress!!! And hugs!!!
> 
> Also, and most importantly, the last of the three beautiful pieces created for this story! This one is by the lovely [maichan](http://maichan-art.tumblr.com)! I was so happy when she told me she wanted to draw the hug, and seeing the end result made me even happier. I love the sheer emotion you can see on both of their faces, and how almost desperate the hug looks. It's just... it's amazing.


	10. Chapter 9: Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky start to reconnect.

Sunlight drifted through the window as it pulled Steve into a dreamlike state of mostly, but not quite, awake. He shifted over and buried his head in the crook of Bucky’s neck to hide from the brightness, smiling slightly at the fact that he even had the opportunity to do that. 

Yesterday, as he walked back to the cabin after their fight, he wasn’t sure what he would be walking back to. As much as he hated to admit it, he was more than a little worried he’d come back and Bucky would still be angry, or worse, would never want to see him again. Instead, he came back to the best hug he’d gotten since he’d woke up in the 21st century and Bucky apologizing to _him_ , which still confused him since in his opinion Bucky hadn’t done a thing wrong. 

There had also been a dizzy moment where Steve was _sure_ Bucky was going to kiss him and he still wasn’t totally sure what to think about that. Part of him was disappointed the kiss didn’t happen, but part of him was almost relieved. It would have been way too much, way too quickly, and he didn’t want Bucky to do something he might regret later. He didn’t want to even risk asking, too scared to disturb their fragile fresh start. If this moment, this morning, was the furthest things between them would go, he would be more than happy with that. It was, in his opinion, more than he deserved. 

As much as wanted to stay in that moment forever, his legs were itching to move. As he moved to get up, slowly so as not to disturb a still sleeping Bucky, he felt a little warm, furry lump curled up by his feet. He glanced over to see Rose, curled up in a little ball, asleep. Another movement caught his attention and he looked to see a small orange tabby, one he hadn’t seen before, curled up on the arm of the couch right next to Bucky.

“Well hello there,” he whispered when the cat opened their eyes to look at him. He carefully stretched his hand out for the cat to sniff. Apparently they didn’t smell anything too interesting, because they just closed their eyes and went back to sleep.

Steve chuckled quietly to himself, moving as subtly as he could to avoid waking Bucky. He wasn’t as successful as he hoped though as Bucky stirred next to him, a small smile appearing on his face as he cracked an eye open.

“Hey,” Bucky said in that slightly scratchy way he spoke when he first woke, something Steve had desperately missed and was overjoyed he got to hear again.

“Hey,” he said as he brought a hand to cup Bucky’s cheek.

Bucky nuzzled his hand for a second before he sat up and stretched. He glanced over his shoulder and made a surprised noise, spotting the little orange cat. “Hello little one,” he said as he gave their head a little rub, which set them off purring. “I don’t know why I’m surprised to find you here, I should just expect it at this point.”

“This happen often?”

“Every morning I find this one curled up either next to or on my pillow.”

Steve smiled, imagining the two of them sharing a pillow. It must have made for an adorable sight.

“They have a name?”

Bucky looked at the cat for a second, thoughtful. “Grant.”

“Grant?”

“That is your middle name, right? I’m not misremembering?”

“No, that’s my middle name. But... why Grant?”

“Because he reminds me of you. Small, but stubborn and scrappy. Also the cuddliest creature I’ve ever met.”

Steve looked down, feeling his face heat up. “Thank you.”

Bucky made an aborted movement before shaking his head slightly. “Come on, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry again.”

“Now that you mention it, I could eat.”

Bucky made to move off the couch, when he felt their other furry companion on the other end of the couch.

“Oh! Now this _is_ a surprise. Hello sweetheart!” He said as he sat up slowly so as not to disturb Rose.

“Why is her being here a surprise?”

“Because she’s never exactly shown an interest in me, or anyone really. She’ll tolerate people, but otherwise she normally just does her own thing. I don’t see her unless its food time.”

Steve watched as Bucky gently ran his hand down Rose’s back, who just lifted her head up to see who was touching her before laying back down. “Hey, that reminds me. What did you mean by what you said earlier, that _of course she would take to me_?”

“Oh nothing bad. Sorry if I made you think that,” he said as he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s just, like I said, she doesn’t typically like people, but I guess she could tell you were a good person.”

Steve shrugged, and laughed when she stretched and made her way over to him to settle down again right on his lap. Bucky smirked, gesturing as if she’d just proved his point for him.

“Is that so, little one? Huh?” He stroked down her back, setting off a massive purr.

He looked up at Bucky, helpless. “I want to move, but I don’t want to move her.”

Bucky laughed. “Will it help if I bring breakfast in here?”

Steve sighed, resigned to his fate as a cat bed. “Yes, at least I’ll have food.”

“I’ll be right back, then.” He tossed Steve the remote before he walked into the kitchen. “Here, find something entertaining.”

 

* * *

 

As great as lazing on the couch with Bucky and the cats was, eventually the fact that he hadn’t showered since yesterday made itself very aware to Steve. Rose didn’t seem to mind too much when he gently moved her onto the pillow next him as he got up to make his way to the bathroom. In fact she did the opposite, following him like she wasn’t going to let him out of her sight anytime soon.

“Sweetheart, no, you can’t,” Steve said, but she just kept following him right into the bathroom. He sighed as he picked her up and placed her outside, but she just looked at him with a pitiful look on her face and gave the most pathetic meow he’d ever heard.

“Rose, no. I’ll be out in twenty minutes, tops,” he said as he tried to close the door again. She wasn’t having that though, and bolted in before he he could get it totally shut.

“Bucky,” he called, desperate to shower but not knowing how to stop the cat from following him.

“Yeah?”

“This cat will not leave me alone.”

“What?” he asked as he walked upstairs to the bathroom.

“Rose. She won’t let me close the bathroom door without following me in.”

“Oh, Rosie. Come here,” Bucky cooed as he picked her up with his right arm. She struggled to get out of his grip but Bucky held firm. “Calm down, little one, he’ll be out in a minute, he’s not going anywhere I promise.”

Seeing the distraction for what it was, he quickly closed the door before she could squirm her way down and back in into the bathroom. 

Unfortunately less than a minute after he started the shower up, a chorus of meows started up, and didn’t stop until he was done and the door opened back up. He even saw a little leg sticking out from under the door, trying to paw her way in as he stepped out of the shower to dry off.

When he told Bucky about his bath time entertainment he started laughing. “Well I guess that means no closing the door when you shower, Steve,” then he paused for a second, realizing what he said, and blushed a deep, deep red. “You know, for Rose’s sake. Don’t want her to be upset,” he scrambled to explain.

“I know Buck, don’t worry,” he was quick to reassure.

That Bucky felt the need to explain though, it made the fear that something _had_ happened to Bucky deepen. He wasn’t even sure how to bring that up in conversation or if he even should. Maybe it would be better to let those demons lie or wait for Bucky to come to him about it.

Later that day though, Bucky put him out of his misery.

“Steve, can we talk?”

He turned to Bucky, who was curled up on the other side of the couch. They’d somehow made the living room into a makeshift bedroom of sorts. Pillows and blankets had appeared and the only time either of them left was to get food or run to the bathroom.

“Sure, Buck, what’s up?”

He seemed to sense the note of concern in his voice because he was quick to reassure. “Nothing bad, I promise. Well, not _too_ bad. I…,” he took a deep breath. “I want to tell you about what happened, before.”

Steve’s eyes widened, realizing what he meant. “Are you sure? I don’t want to know if it’s going to upset you; that’s the last thing I want to do.”

“I’m sure. I want you to know, all of it.”

Steve nodded. “Okay. If you’re sure, okay. If you want to tell me, I’m willing to listen.”

“One thing though, please don’t interrupt? If I stop, I might not want to continue.”

Steve nodded again, and gestured for Bucky to speak.

It was both worse than he’d imagined and not, at the same time. Hearing how Hydra turned Bucky into what he claimed was their obedient little puppet made Steve’s anger spike. The only thing keeping him calm enough to not show how furious it made him was Rose sitting in his lap, unknowingly providing much needed comfort.

He also finally got the full story of how Bucky managed to break free from Hydra. It turned out the first target on that fateful mission was none other than Howard Stark, and his wife Maria.

“I swear Steve, I had no idea who he was. He said my name, but this was right after I’d been thawed and conditioned. I’m not sure even you could have gotten through to me at that moment.”

“Bucky,” Steve said. “It’s okay. I know.”

Bucky nodded. “Right. Well, Hydra got too confident after that, thinking that if I could… kill Howard, a friend, clearly the conditioning was strong enough to withstand anything, so without wiping me again or putting me back into deep freeze, they sent me out a week later with orders to kill Peggy in her home. I think they wanted it to look like a suicide, the way they ordered me to do it.

“Only they hadn’t counted on that photo. It was the first thing in a long time that snapped me out of the mindless fugue they’d had me under. I saw that photo and I _felt_. For the first time in forever, I felt something. I had no idea what it was at the time, all I knew was if just a photo could make me feel something, then I wanted to find whoever it was in that photo.

“To this day I’m convinced it’s the only thing that kept Peg alive. I don’t know if seeing her, especially as changed as she was with age, would have been enough. I’d like to think it would have been, but…,” he shook his head.

“She took me to one of her personal safe houses and got me to tell her who my handlers were. Turns out, she was acquainted with them.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose in shock. “What? How?”

“Well,” Bucky gave a bitter smile, “they worked for SHIELD.”

Steve’s stomach swooped. His mouth opened, but no words came. He wasn’t even sure what he _could_ say, his shock ran that deep.

“It’s a long, long story, but they’d apparently taken root in SHIELD years before that. Honestly it was luck that Peggy managed to find enough people she could trust who were not connected to Hydra to help take them all down. I still have no idea how she did it, but she did. Tough as nails at any age.”

Steve nodded. That neverending guilt that he didn’t take out Hydra when he took out Red Skull burned low in his gut, but he ignored it for the time being. Now wasn’t the time to stew in self pity.

“On top of that, she managed to get into contact with people who helped break me of the brainwashing. Honestly, I’m forever indebted to that woman for all she did for me. She even gave me a place in SHIELD for a while, before I realized I was done fighting.”

“Have you spoken to her lately? Besides her telling you about me, that is.”

“No, why?”

“You... you do know about her memory, right? That it’s getting worse?”

Bucky sighed. “Yeah, I know. She called and told me when she got the diagnosis. Alzheimer's, from what she told me.”

Steve nodded. In the days following his visit to Peggy he’d done some research about it. Though he’d seen what could happen close up and personal, seeing it laid out in black in white like that was horrifying.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure you knew. Look… I know how tough it is for you to leave, but you should go and see her, before she gets worse.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Steve nodded, that was the best he could hope for at the moment.

“So, that’s about it. After I left SHIELD, I came here and built this place, and I’ve been here ever since.”

“Wait, you _built_ this place?”

“Yep.” There was a small look of pride on his face, a shadow of how he used to look whenever he did something he knew was impressive.

“Wow. That’s amazing, Buck.”

“Thank you,” Bucky looked down in embarrassment, then cleared his throat. “So, any questions?”

Steve took a deep breath. “Just one and you don’t have to answer, if you feel too uncomfortable. Did… did they ever,” he stopped, trying to word this just right. “Other than what you told me about, they never… _touched_ you in any way, right?”

Bucky’s eyebrows wrinkled in confusion for a second, before he seemed to realize what Steve was asking. “No, nothing like that. I was a weapon to them, nothing more. I think most of them were too scared to come close enough to even try, if I’m being honest.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m relieved for that.”

“But… now that you bring that up, the only kind of touch I did experience for years? All it brought was pain, either giving or receiving it and it made me very… touch adverse. It’s gotten better over the years,” he reassured quickly, seeing where Steve’s thoughts were going already about the hug they’d shared last night as well as all the cuddling. “But it’s still hard, convincing myself that I deserve to be touched with any sort of gentleness; that it’s okay to touch others. You just need to be patient with me, if that’s okay?”

Through some feat of strength Steve wasn’t aware he possessed, he didn’t let sheer, unadulterated rage he felt show on his face. Bucky had always accused him of being an open book, but just this once he would not let on how utterly furious he was, that Bucky thought he doesn’t deserve touch, of all things.

_I will make sure Bucky knows how loved and cherished he is_ , he swore to himself.

“Buck, we can take all the time you need. All I want is for you to feel safe, that’s all I care about.”

With a hesitancy that broke his heart, Bucky took Steve’s hand in his, and squeezed.

He squeezed back gently, putting all the love he could into it.

 

* * *

 

Steve spent the next few days getting to know all the ways Bucky was different and all the ways he was still the Bucky he remembered. The core of him remained, no matter how much Bucky tried to deny it. He was still the same smart, thoughtful, kind man Steve had always known and loved.

The biggest change, the most obvious one at least, was the touch aversion. Before everything, Bucky would seek out touch, craved it even. Now though, even the slightest brush against him would make him flinch if he wasn’t prepared for it. Bucky would always apologize after, like it was his fault he’d been conditioned to expect pain. Steve would always be quick to reassure and do his best to not startle. Every time it happened though, Steve would feel the anger boil under his skin and hated the fact that he couldn’t go after the people who’d done that to him. 

There was also the fact that Bucky had chosen to be a carpenter, of all things. Not that Bucky wasn’t good at it, one glance at his workshop made it clear how talented he was. But it was so different from the jobs Bucky had taken before. Bucky had been whip smart and had a talent for numbers Steve had envied in school and he’d used those skills to land a job as a bookkeeper for a local grocery shop. Seeing Bucky using his hands to craft and create things? Well… it did things to Steve, things he hadn’t totally expected. And since it would be a long time, if ever, that they would be able to reach that level of intimacy in their relationship again, Steve did his best to stay clear of Bucky’s workshop.

Bucky was working on the whole touch thing, even though Steve was very careful to not push or make him feel like he had to force himself to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with. But Bucky insisted he didn’t feel pushed and that he wanted to try. So far they hadn’t done much more than hug or cuddle on the couch and if that was all he managed to have of Bucky, it would be enough.

There were a couple other surprises too, like the cooking, which was still weird to Steve, given the last time he’d seen Bucky cook, he’d nearly started a fire in their kitchen. Now though, Bucky was confident in the kitchen and all the food he’d made so far was actually good.

The bigger surprise, though, was the knitting. Bucky was finishing up an order he’d taken before Natasha had brought Steve out here and it needed to be delivered to his customer as soon as possible, so Steve was curled up on one of the cushy chairs reading, Rose curled up on the headrest behind him. Fresh from a shower, Bucky put on some quiet music, sat on one of the couches and grabbed a basket from under the end table. Curious about what Bucky was doing, he peeked over the top of his book and watched as Bucky pulled out what appeared to be a mostly finished sweater and some knitting needles.

He didn’t mean to stare as Bucky started to confidently work, doing complicated movements he couldn’t begin to describe but he couldn’t help himself. Of all the things, for some reason _this_ is the one that caught him most off guard. 

Sensing Steve’s stares, Bucky looked up. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve quickly shook his head and went back to trying to read his book.

“No, seriously, what?”

“It’s just… when did the knitting start?”

“Honestly? One of the therapists suggested it. Something about it being calming, but giving me a task to focus on accomplishing. I was very goal and task oriented when I first came back. The idea of just relaxing was a foreign concept to me. Turned out I really took to it and kept doing it even after I ended therapy. Why?”

“No, it’s nothing, really.”

“Steve. Tell me.”

“It’s just,” Steve sighed. He really hoped this wouldn’t be taken the wrong way. He didn’t want Bucky to think he was comparing the ‘old’ to the ‘new’ Bucky. “Your ma tried to teach you stuff like that, knitting and sewing. Something about making you a good husband for your future wife,” Steve huffed a laugh. It had been an inside joke between the two of them, given they’d been together since Steve turned 16. “You couldn’t stand it, you always complained how boring it was. After a while your ma gave up, not able to take more of your whining.”

Bucky shrugged, hands never pausing their work. “Does it bother you?”

“Does what bother me?”

“That I’ve changed? That I’m not the man you remember?”

“No. At least not in the way you might think it does. Honestly, I’d take you any way I can have you, as long as you’ll have me in return. It does bother me that it happened because of all you’ve been through. But, no. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

For the first time since the conversation started, Bucky’s hands paused their work. “You really mean that, don’t you.”

“Why wouldn’t I mean it?”

“At first, I guess I just assumed you said stuff like that so… so I wouldn’t feel bad. But, no, you actually mean it.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

Bucky gave a soft smile before going back to his work.

“Does it bother you, that I’ve changed,” Steve asked a couple minutes later.

“Honestly? No. I think I would be worried if you hadn’t changed, at least a little. I know first-hand what it’s like and if you tried to tell me you weren’t even a little different? I would be worried.”

Steve gave a little smile of his own, and went back to his reading, letting the sound of the music and the clicking of the knitting needles wash over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cuddling! More talking! Actual, non-angsty fluff!!! It's a miracle!


	11. Chapter 10: Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky slowly lets down his walls.

The longer he spent around Steve, the more Bucky felt like _Bucky_ and less like an imposter taking the place of a dead man. Maybe it was the easy acceptance Steve gave him, seemingly without a second thought, something he never thought he would’ve received in a million years. Maybe it was just how Steve kept calling him Bucky and the more he heard the name, the more it felt like it belonged to him. No matter the reason, he felt more comfortable in his skin than he had for a long, long time.

There was still one issue that Bucky felt was almost insurmountable. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t quite seem to get over that touch aversion he’d developed after years of touch being associated with only pain. It was easier if he was the one to initiate things, that way he felt like he had control over the interaction. Not that he expected Steve to do anything he was uncomfortable with. In fact Steve had been near saint-like with how patient he’d been, even though there were times he could see the want in Steve’s eyes.

For some reason, that night, sleep eluded Bucky no matter what he tried. Eventually he gave up, careful not to disturb Grant sleeping on the pillow next to him as he got up and made his way down to the kitchen, hoping a cup of hot tea would help relax him.

However, when he got downstairs, he found he wasn’t the only one awake. Steve was sitting in one of the armchairs looking out the window, lost in thought. He looked up when Bucky came downstairs though.

“Sorry, hope I didn’t wake you,” he said, smiling sheepishly.

Bucky shook his head. “Nah, couldn’t sleep either. I was gonna make some tea, want some?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll be right back.”

A few minutes and two mugs of tea later, Bucky made his way back into the living room and handed Steve his before settling on the couch with his own. 

“So what has you up at this god awful hour?” Bucky asked as he took a sip, letting the warmth soothe and relax him.

Steve shrugged. “Dunno. Just couldn’t sleep, I guess.”

Bucky hummed and nodded. “Me either.”

The fell into a comfortable silence, until tiny meows and the patter of little feet made their way down the stairs into the living room. Bucky smiled as Grant climbed his way onto his shoulder to continue his nightly cuddles, while Rose curled up on Steve’s lap.

Bucky took a deep breath. Seeing the ease with which these cats were able to jump up and cuddle without fear, to trust that they were safe, made Bucky want to try something.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“You know, that night we slept out here on the couch?”

Steve smiled. “Yeah, I remember.”

“It was the best night’s sleep I’d had in… well, as long as I can remember. And,” he took a deep breath. “It’s something I think I’d like to try again, if you’re willing.”

“Sleeping out here?”

Bucky rolled his eye. “No, you doof. Sleeping… sleeping next to you. If you’re okay with that. If not it’s fine—”

“Bucky, I’d love to try.”

Bucky let out the breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding. “Okay.”

“Where do you wanna try this? Out here again?”

“God no. These couches are comfortable but way too small for both of us.”

“So, your room?”

Bucky hesitated. He trusted Steve, more than anyone, but the idea of letting anyone into his personal space made his skin itch.

Steve, as perceptive as ever, nodded. “My room then.”

“Sorry. And thank you.”

“Don’t be sorry. And there’s nothing to thank me for. Anything you need, I’m here.”

Bucky knew that wasn’t true, he had plenty to be sorry for, but this wasn’t the time to push the issue. Instead they finished their tea and made their way back to Steve’s room, their furry companions following close behind.

Once there Steve glanced at Bucky, letting him take the lead. He gestured for Steve to get in first and waited for him to get situated before joining him.

Expecting to feel uncomfortable or even on the verge of a panic attack, he instead settled in, relaxing almost automatically. It was exactly like the other night on the couch, as if his body recognized Steve meant safety, that he could relax and know nothing would happen so long as Steve was near.

Steve clearly felt the same since it seemed almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, his eyes drifted shut and he fell asleep, with Bucky nodding off not long after.

And just like the last time he fell asleep next to Steve, he woke holding him tight, feeling the most rested he’d felt in a long, long time.

 

* * *

 

After that night, they fell into a similar routine, the only difference being they switched from the guest room into Bucky’s room. He’d realized, if he could fall asleep next to Steve so easily, he could let him into his space without fear. Plus he missed his bed, and there was no way he’d be able to sleep without Steve next to him, so it was clearly the best solution.

It was still a bit of an adjustment, getting used to sharing his space with someone else. But after a couple nights it felt like Steve had always been there, fitting into Bucky’s life seamlessly. If Bucky didn’t know this was muscle memory for him, that they’d been attached at the hip practically their entire lives, it would’ve scared him. 

Things were easy with Steve, but there was still one small thing he couldn’t seem to get past. He could hug Steve, and sleep next to him, but anything more intimate than that still made Bucky hesitate. He wasn’t even really sure why, there was no one he trusted more than Steve and he knew Steve would never, ever hurt him. 

To make it even worse, Steve was _oka_ y with it. He never once pushed for more, content taking only what Bucky was willing to give. Not that Bucky wanted to be pushed. But he also didn’t want their relationship to stay like this forever. He _wanted_ , but he wasn’t sure quite how to make that happen.

The cats, however, didn’t seem to have any issues accepting Steve into their little family. It seemed once Rose adopted him as her person, the others took to him rather quickly. Even Grant, who didn’t seem to really want anything to do with anyone who wasn’t Bucky, would play and cuddle with Steve if Bucky wasn’t around and at night was quite content to sleep between the two of them.

Bucky knew Steve was settling in well, but it hadn’t hit him just how well until he walked in one afternoon to see him on the floor, surrounded by cats. The younger ones were playing and climbing all over Steve as he picked up various toys to keep them entertained, while the older ones curled around Steve for warmth. 

Bucky was struck with just how domestic the scene was. At that moment they could have been any two men, living in a nice comfortable home with their small army of cats to keep them company. It was everything he didn’t know he’d wanted, but he was so grateful to have it.

Steve glanced up and smiled when he saw Bucky watching, gesturing for him to join in on the fun. 

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen all of them together at once like this before, except for feeding time. Are you hiding some catnip or something I don’t know about,” he joked as he sat down in front of Steve. Grant, who was using Steve’s knuckle as a chew toy, noticed and ran over to start rubbing his face on Bucky’s leg.

“They ambushed me. Rose dragged the toy over and once I started playing with her, the others wanted in on the fun too.”

Bucky reached over and gave the one he thought was the oldest, a lanky all grey cat, a rub down their back, then their belly as they rolled over asking for tummy rubs. “How come you guys never did that for me, huh? Am I not good enough for you?”

Grant ran up and bunted the hand rubbing at the other cat, wanting Bucky’s full attention. “Okay, okay, sorry,” he apologized to the kitten as he scooped him up.

“So Natasha mentioned something to me,”

“Yeah?” he asked, still distracted by Grant, who was now trying to crawl up his right arm to settle on his shoulder.

“How come these guys don’t have names? Other than Liho, Rose, and Grant that is,” he asked, dragging the toy to where the Liho was, who pounced on the toy and attempted to snag it from Steve’s hand, which Steve allowed.

“Honestly? I don’t really know. I never really meant to have any cats at all, but I found this one,” he gestured to the grey cat, “abandoned at a gas station. It sort of snowballed from there, every time I saw a cat, I stopped and picked it up. Somehow along the way, I ended up with six of 'em. Naming them never really occurred to me, though.”

“Well they deserve names,” he said with such conviction that it almost made him smile with how charming it was.

“You say that like they’ll answer to it. They’re cats Steve, they don’t really care.”

Steve looked at him in a way he’d remembered meant _you sure about that?_ then looked down at Rose, who had wandered to try to get the toy away from Liho. “Rose, sweetheart, come here.” The cat, damn her, perked up right away and ran straight to Steve.

“Now that doesn’t seem fair, Steve. Of course she’s gonna come to you, she loves you.”

“You try saying her name, she what she does.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, indulging this only to prove Steve wrong. “Rose. Hey, Rose.” 

The cat, damn her, actually looked at him and meowed.

“Bullshit.”

“No, she knows her name Buck. Try saying something else in the same tone of voice, she what she does.”

He did randomly switching up different words with her name. The only time she showed any interest was when Bucky said her name.

“Well… what do you know,” he said, surprised that Steve was actually right.

“See? Cats are smarter than you think. So you really oughta think about naming the others.”

“How about we think of names together?”

Steve looked at him, his eyes wide. “Wait, really?”

“Why not? They all clearly like you, only seems fair you get to be a part of the naming process too.”

Steve looked down with a shy smile and nodded. “I’d love that. Thank you, Buck.”

Bucky realized something at that moment. For the past few weeks, since Natasha had left and they’d finally talked through some of their issues, Bucky had come to think of this place not just as his home, but Steve’s as well. He’d thought he’d made that obvious, especially when he started letting Steve sleep in the same bed as him, but apparently he hadn’t.

“Steve. This is your home too. You know that, right? But… only if you want it to be, of course, I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay here. The offer is always there.”

“I… wow. I would love to, Buck. Thank you. I didn’t want to just assume; even though you were letting me stay here for the moment, I know how important your space is to you.”

“You’re important to me, too.”

Steve’s answering smile was like the sun, it warmed Bucky to his core. “I just want you to know, if I wasn’t covered and surrounded by cats, I would give you a hug right now.”

Bucky reached over and squeezed Steve’s free hand, which while not as good as a hug was still perfect, especially when Steve gently squeezed back.

 

* * *

 

It had only been a month since Steve arrived, but now that he was here, Bucky couldn’t imagine the place without him. For the first time since he’d moved here, there was a happiness and joy that had been missing. Everything felt lighter, easier almost, all because Steve was with him.

But like everything else good in Bucky’s life, it was destined to come to an end.

The moment his private phone, the one only Natasha and Peggy ever called, rang, he knew. 

“Yeah,” he said tersely as he picked it up, because while Bucky understood he didn’t have to like it.

“James. I need to speak to Steve,” Natasha said, sounding nervous, for her at least. It almost made him want to hang up the phone and pretend the call never happened. Steve deserved to rest. He didn’t need to go back out there and risk his life yet again..

But he also knew he couldn’t make that choice and Steve would never be happy if there was someone who needed his help while he sat by and did nothing.

Without saying a word he handed the phone to Steve, who looked confused but took it without question.

“Rogers speaking.”

He tried his best not to listen to their conversation. He didn’t want to know the danger Steve was about to walk into, but he heard enough to know it wasn’t good. Steve really was needed and he’d have to let him go.

“I’ll be ready in an hour,” Steve said as he hung up the phone, already shifting into Captain America mode.

He hated Captain America more than anything. He hated that it meant Steve was going to put himself in harm’s way and there was nothing he could do about it.

Steve at least looked apologetic as he handed the phone back to Bucky though, as if he knew just how much he hated this. “Sorry. She didn’t want to call me in, but there’s no other choice.”

Bucky just nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He followed as Steve got up and went to their bedroom, grabbed the bag he’d come with and stuffed a change of clothes in, as well as a few other things; then made to change out of his pajamas, really a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants that actually belonged to Bucky, into the clothes and boots he’d arrived in.

“I’ll come back, Buck. I promise.”

“You fucking better, Rogers. If you die, I’ll kill you.”

Steve huffed a laugh. “I’ll remember that.”

Bucky walked over and pulled him into a tight hug. “I love you. Come back safe.”

He pulled back to see Steve looking at him wide eyed. 

“What?”

“You said you love me.”

“And? You already knew that.”

“You— you haven’t said it, though. Not since I’ve been here.”

“Yeah, well. I’m not a fan of stating the obvious.”

“Still it’s nice to hear.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Now go and come back so I can tell you I love you some more.”

“I love you, too,” Steve said, and walked out of the cabin.

 

* * *

 

Three weeks. It had been _three weeks_ since Steve walked out of his door, and Bucky was going out of his mind with worry. 

He didn’t even have the luxury of watching the news to keep track of what was going on, since as far as he could tell, this mission was highly classified and if they did their job right nothing would make the news. Which meant, in this case, no news was good news. It was still driving him crazy with worry though, not knowing.

The first week, Bucky took on another commision, hoping the work would take up a few weeks of his time and once he finished Steve would be back and all would be right in the world. Instead it took him a week to finish, working nonstop to keep his mind from all the worst case scenarios and Steve still wasn’t home.

The second week, he buried himself in knitting and baking. He finally finished the sweater he’d been working on for months, and he decided it would be perfect for Steve. The blue, which he hadn’t realized matched the blue of Steve’s uniform, would bring out his eyes beautifully. 

His baking got more experimental again, too, though nothing near as bad as the disastrous chocolate cucumber cake. This time he was more interested in pies and quiches and, in one questionable decision, tried to combine the two to make a sweet quiche. The less said about that, the better. He rarely threw away food, but there was no way he wanted to try to eat an entire sweet spinach and bacon custard pie.

Now going into week three, he was barely hanging on. Nothing was able to hold his attention for more than a couple minutes at a time. Rose and Grant had become his constant companions, cuddling close to him as if sensing his distress and trying to soothe him as best as possible. Though in Rose’s case, he got the feeling it was more of a mutual thing. Either way, he was grateful to both of them, because they were the only reason he hadn’t completely lost his mind with worry.

When Steve left, Rose had done her best to follow him out of the door, only being stopped at the last second by Bucky scooping her up. After she stood vigil at the door for almost a day, as if her staring at it would summon her human back. Eventually she gave up and took to wandering the house, meowing pitifully. She even stopped eating for a day or two, which worried him, but after the third day she broke her fast and chowed down, making up for the days of not eating. 

Even more surprising was the fact that she was still sleeping with him at the foot of the bed. He’d expected, with Steve gone, she would go back to sleeping wherever it was she’d slept before. He was grateful for it though, as well as for Grant continuing to sleeping in the spot between his and Steve’s pillow. 

He must have been extra pathetic because on this particular day, all of the cats joined him on the couch in one giant cuddle pile. He found the most mindless thing on TV, a colorful cartoon about a starfish and a sponge which confused the hell out of him, but did the job of distracting him and settled in for another day of moping. He was five episodes of an apparent marathon, when one of the silent alarms on the perimeter of the property was tripped, putting him instantly on alert.

Shaking the cats off as gently as possible, he ran to the security monitors to assess the level of danger he was about to be in, when the sight of Steve walking up the path, glancing at the camera as if he’d tripped the alarm on purpose, filled Bucky with such relief he wanted to cry.

Not bothering to stop to put on shoes, he ran out to meet Steve halfway, crashing into him as he pulled him into tight, desperate hug. Steve’s hand tangled into the hair on the back of his head, pulling them closer together, while Bucky was attempting to do the same by grasping the back of the jacket Steve was wearing. 

Steve was back, he was home, he was _safe_. He was here in Bucky’s arms, he came back.

He came _back_. He didn’t die out there, he didn’t leave Bucky alone again.

It was as if whatever block that was in his head, the thing causing his fear of any form of intimacy, was shattered into pieces, leaving him filled with a want he never thought he would feel again. 

Bucky pulled back, staring into Steve’s eyes, wanting to be completely sure he was actually ready for this. All he found was the same love he felt reflected back at him and that last little bit of doubt was washed away.

He brought his hand to gently cup Steve’s cheek, not wanting to startle him and break this moment that felt as fragile as glass. But Steve, as always, was on the same page and met him halfway.

Kissing Steve felt like a dam breaking. What he’d intended to be a gentle welcome home kiss, turned deep and passionate almost as soon as their lips touched. It was like the seventy years of want, something he hadn’t even realized had been there until that very moment, came pouring out.

The hand cupping Steve cheek moved to the back of his head, fingers tangling in the short hair on the back of Steve’s head. His other arm moved to Steve’s waist, trying to bring him as close as possible. 

Eventually the need for air won out over the desire to keep kissing, so he pulled back just enough to lean his forehead against Steve’s.

“You came back,” he whispered, not wanting to break the moment.

“I told you I would,” Steve whispered back, brushing his lips gently against Bucky’s.

“Yeah, well, I can’t help it. I worry.”

“You always have,” he huffed with a small laugh.

Unable to resist, Bucky pressed his lips back to Steve’s again, actually taking his time to savor the feel and taste he’d missed for so very long. 

Before things could get too heated, Bucky pulled back, and with a smirk asked, “Wanna take this inside?”

“Wait, really? Are you sure?”

Despite seeing the desire in Steve’s eyes, he still stopped to make sure this was what Bucky really wanted. If he didn’t already love Steve with all of his being, he would have in that moment.“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure. It’s been far too long.”

“Then, after you.”

He grabbed Steve’s hand to pull him to the house, not stopping until they reached the bedroom, where he closed the door and pushed Steve into it, wanting nothing more than to get lost in Steve again. He slipped his hands under Steve’s jacket, peeling it off slowly has he moved to do the same with his shirt. He pulled back, half to check for any injuries and half to admire Steve’s sculpted pec and ab muscles.

Steve, for his part, rolled his eyes and pulled Bucky back in. “I’m fine,” he murmured into Bucky’s lips before he kissed him again.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he managed to get out as he stepped back and dropped to his knees, hands going to his boots to untie them. 

Steve let out a small gasp, putting his hand to Bucky’s shoulder, trying to get him to stand up. “No, don’t, you don’t have to—”

“Steve,” he said, looking him dead in the eye, trying to show him how serious he was in that moment. “Please. I want to.”

Steve swallowed, conflicting emotions warring in his eyes before he closed his eyes for a second and nodded. 

Nodding back, he kept his eyes on Steve’s face as he untied and removed each boot and sock. Slowly, deliberately, he dragged his hands slowly up his legs, admiring the strength in those muscles as well as watching for any indication of injury. Seeing none, he unfastened the button of his pants before slowly undoing the zipper, letting his knuckles drag across Steve’s rapidly hardening cock, causing a gasp. 

After throwing a small smirk, he focused back on the task at hand, looking for any hidden bruises or injuries as he slowly slid the pants down. Satisfied, he grabbed Steve’s legs one at a time, helping him step out of the clothing before tossing it away somewhere behind him. 

Relief mingled with desire as Bucky was finally sure Steve actually was okay. Steve was alive, he was fine and he was standing here, gasping under Bucky’s careful ministrations. Seeing how affected Steve was, even though nothing had actually happened yet, made Bucky feel so wanted, so desired, something he’d never thought he’d feel again, and with that, the last of his restraint snapped. 

Quickly, he pulled off the boxers that barely did anything to hide Steve’s growing erection, tossing them after the pants and nuzzled at the base of his cock. He pressed a small kiss there, before kissing his way up the shaft, finally ending at the head, flicking his tongue out to get a small taste of the bead of precum forming at the tip. 

Steve gasped as if Bucky had deep throated him, one hand moving to cradle the back of Bucky’s head, not restraining him or trying to force him closer but just touching him. Sense memory told him this was something Steve always did whenever he’d been given a blowjob, it was something he’d done without even thinking. 

He glanced up one more time, to be totally sure Steve was still okay with this and possibly to give himself a little confidence boost as well and seeing Steve so far gone already, eyes closed and cheeks flushed filled him with a sort of pride. He hadn’t even really _done_ anything yet and Steve already looked like lost to the pleasure of the moment. Taking that as his cue, he licked his lips and took the head of Steve’s cock into his mouth slowly. 

Steve’s reaction was instantaneous, shuddering and gasping as the hand on the back of Bucky’s head clenched slightly at the hair on the nape of his neck, causing a small shudder of his own. He had no idea that was something he’d even enjoy, having his hair grabbed like that, but enjoy it he did. Though he was starting to get the feeling he’d enjoy most anything, as long as it was Steve he was doing it with. 

He took the rest of his length in as far as he dared, not wanting to trigger any gag reflex, before letting off and setting a slow pace. He wanted this to last as long as possible, wanted to savor the pleasure, the taste and feel of Steve he hadn’t even remembered enough to miss until that very moment. 

All too soon, Steve was taping him on the shoulder. “Bucky, I… I’m gonna… oh god,” he moaned. He opened his eyes, which he hadn’t even realized he’d closed in the first place, and looked up at Steve and nodded, letting him know it was okay, he could let go. 

A few seconds later, let go he did, coming with a quiet gasp as the taste of cum landed on Bucky’s tongue and he swallowed on instinct. He slowed his pace to help Steve through the aftershocks before letting him slip from his lips and guided a still gasping Steve into a sitting position. 

As soon as he hit the floor, the hand that was still on the back of Bucky’s head brought him in for a bruising kiss, his other arm coming around to pull him in as close as possible. He returned the kiss with the same passion, addicted to the way Steve tasted on his tongue, the feel of his plush lips against his own. 

Steve pulled away a second later, reaching for Bucky’s own straining erection when he stopped him. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”

Steve looked at him, worry clear on his face. “Bucky?”

Bucky presses a gentle kiss to Steve’s lips. “I promise, I’m fine. It’s just… a little too much to take in all at once? I guess? Trust me, this was more than enough at the moment. Maybe later though, after we get you cleaned up?”

Steve looked at him for a second, as if making sure Bucky was telling the truth. And he was. He really did just need a moment to let the intense emotions settle. He wasn’t used to feeling quite so much at once and it was a tad overwhelming. He’d be fine after a moment. Thankfully whatever Steve saw on his face convinced him of that and he nodded. “Okay,” he said, cupping Bucky’s cheek. 

They stayed there for a few more moments before getting up and making their way to the bathroom for that much needed shower, but before the could enter, Bucky stopped. “Hey Steve,” he said as he turned to look at him. 

“Yeah?”

“Welcome home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're not quite done yet! There's still the epilogue to go, which I'll post in an hour or two.


	12. Epilogue: Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve makes a decision.

It was through sheer force of will that Steve had been able to climb into the quinjet back to New York from the ruins of Sokovia. All he wanted at that moment was Bucky, their bed, and their cats. It was all he let himself think about or else his mind would spiral again, seeing the visions Wanda had put into his head.

 _It wasn’t real_ , he kept reminding himself.

Steve glanced over to her, where she lay curled around her brother, who was alive but badly injured. It was pure luck the one bullet that caught Pietro from behind missed his heart, though it had struck his lung. It was thanks to Clint’s quick thinking Pietro managed to make it to the helicarrier alive at all. He would be stable until they could get him to New York to be placed in the Cradle.

As tense as the flight back was, he was grateful to finally land at Stark Tower. After a quick shower and change of clothes, he walked to the garage for his bike when he was stopped by the very last person he wanted to see at that moment.

“Steve, wait up.”

He took a deep breath, summoning he patience not to snap, before turning to look at Tony, not quite trusting himself to speak at that moment. 

“I’m… I’m sorry. I know I should have talked to you, talked to Thor, talked to anybody before I did anything, but—”

“Tony. Look, I’m tired. I just want to go home.”

“Right. Sorry.” He paused, considering for a second. “You’re never going to tell where it is you go, are you? Even after we’ve known each other for three years.”

Steve looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “You really wanna have that talk right now? After everything that’s just happened?”

Tony sighed. “No, no you’re right. Sorry. But I worry about you. And it does hurt a little that you don’t trust me, trust _us,_ enough to tell us where you go.”

“It’s… it’s complicated, Tony. I have people who I want to protect and who don’t want anything to do with this life.”

Tony nodded. “That’s fair. I get it.” He hesitated, before asking, “Will you come back though, if we need to get the gang together again?” 

Steve sighed. “I… yeah, Tony, I will. Call and I’ll be here, just like always.”

“Right. Well, maybe not _here_ here. This is the second time this tower has been destroyed, I think it’s time to move to a more remote location. Upstate New York maybe.”

“That’s… actually a good idea.”

“I am capable of them, sometimes.” 

“I know you are,” Steve said with a small laugh. “I’ll see you around.”

“Roger, Rogers.”

“Funny,” Steve said as he rolled his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Steve took a deep breath as he walked into the cabin, taking in the smells of home that he’d missed for those long weeks.

A few of the cats came over to sniff him in greeting, but Rose, stubborn girl she was, wasn’t among them. She always hated when Steve was gone longer than a day and typically took a week at least to forgive him, if he was lucky.

The back door slammed shut and he braced himself for Bucky to storm in and yell at him for being reckless. Instead he was pulled into a tight hug, one he returned after a few seconds surprise.

“You stupid idiot,” Bucky mumbled into his neck as he somehow squeezed him even harder.

“I’m so sorry, never again. I promise, never again.”

Bucky pulled back, surprised. “Wait, what do you mean, never again?”

Steve hesitated. He hadn’t been planning on it, leaving the life for good. He’d been serious when he told Tony he’d be there if he was needed. But here, now, standing in front of Bucky after being assaulted with visions of Bucky still in Hydra’s grasp, their puppet and weapon and being forced to kill him, he knew he couldn’t go back out there. He couldn’t leave Bucky again.

“I… I think I’m done. I can’t do it anymore, Buck.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I love you Bucky, so much and I made you a promise, one that I almost broke. I won’t do that again.”

Bucky took his face in both hands and looked him deep in the eyes. “Okay,” he said after a minute.

“Okay,” he said as he cupped Bucky’s face and caressed his cheek with his thumb. “Oh, Natasha says to expect her in a couple weeks. She claims she has a few things to take care of, but mostly I think she wants to give us a chance to get all the sex out of our system.”

Bucky laughed as he dragged Steve into the kitchen to feed him, a ritual after every time Steve came back from the field.

Sure, there would probably always be some part of him itching to jump into the fray, to take on the bullies of the world. But Bucky was the most important person to Steve and he deserved the best.

So, for the first time in his life, he would do the right thing and step away, and, to his surprise, it was the easiest decision of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! 
> 
> One thing I forgot to note at the beginning is the title, which is from the song Cold Arms by Mumford and Sons. The song itself also served as a little bit of inspiration as well, and I wholeheartedly recommend checking it, and the album it comes from, out. 
> 
> I want to once again thank the amazing, extremely talented [alby_mangroves](http://artgroves.tumblr.com) and [maichan](http://maichan-art.tumblr.com) for collaborating with me on this. The art you created has blown my mind, and without the two of you, and the input and suggestions you gave me, this story wouldn't be nearly as good as it ended up being. I'll be forever grateful the two of you decided to take a chance on working on this. Thank you!
> 
> Also, another huge, huge thanks to my beta [Pineau_noir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineau_noir/pseuds/Pineau_noir). You made what was a scary experience of having someone look over my words to make them better and turned it into something stress-free. Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule, I appreciate it more than I can say.
> 
> Lastly, I want to thank everyone who has read, commented, given kudos, or even bookmarked this to read for later. I didn't expect to get the amount of love I've seen so far from this, and it means the world to me.
> 
> <3


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